


Something in My Heart

by TheFlashFic



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Background Westallen, Fake/Pretend Relationship, It's For a Case, M/M, ignoring flashpoint, post season two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 82,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlashFic/pseuds/TheFlashFic
Summary: Joe West has to date someone, for justice. Cisco Ramon is the best of bad options. This'll be fine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lowestZenith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowestZenith/gifts).



> Okay, I hate to say that I've been working on this story for a literal year, but I have. I mean, with massive periods of inactivity, because that's how I roll. Still, it's nearing completion and I _really_ wanted to get at least part of it posted before S3 starts, so. 
> 
> This is not at all related to Like a Summer, but same warnings apply: canon age difference is a definite thing. It's addressed in the story, not ignored, but of course I understand that it's not everyone's cup of tea, so please skip out on this if you have any problem with a late-forties guy dating someone in their mid-twenties.

* * *

The Beginning:

 

It really wasn’t as bad as they made it seem over the radios. Car chases were never safe, of course, and any cop knew better than to take them lightly. But the miles that West drove following his perp and the ugly twists and turns he took through downtown Central City were at a pretty sedate pace and didn’t seem to cause a single complication to surrounding traffic. So as dangerous as any car chase was, this one was pretty much ideal.

Most cops learned quick that any kind of Fast and Furious bullshit was for movie screens only, and real life for cops and crooks was way less interesting. Tearing around city blocks at 100 mph wasn’t going to do more than make a guy crash, potentially turning an evading-arrest charge into a murder rap when he took people out with him. Most bad guys knew that, fortunately.

All the same, a lot of cops were following the chase on the radio, heading out to try to meet it, as West twisted around corners (at a cool 35-40 miles per hour like the woman he was following) and barked out his rapidly-changing location over the radio. More cops than usual during a chase like this, especially considering that his perp was a thief and so far non-violent.

But other cops tended to go where West went, because half the time there’d be a sighting of the Flash, and that was still pretty damn cool.

Despite the distance of the chase and the number of black-and-whites headed to intercept, the whole thing was non-dramatic. Until the end.

Because it was after dark, and downtown there were a lot of bars. Even early evening on a Wednesday, people still managed to get too drunk for their own good. And apparently when those people drank alcohol they got infused with faith that stepping into a crosswalk would make all approaching traffic screech to a halt instantly.

Which meant that the fleeing perp suddenly had to swerve hard to avoid a couple of bearded twenty-something hipsters wobbling their way across the street, and West had to hit the breaks and twist the wheel. Which sent his car up a curb, and into one of the feeble city-planted evergreens that was supposed to make downtown look more ecologically responsible, where it thumped to a halt.

Really, for all the excitement it caused it was an entirely lame wreck at the end of an almost-boring chase. The perp even got away. If West was less seasoned and respected he might’ve been worried about the shit he’d take for it at the station later.

He’d’ve been worried about the wrong thing.

The only thing that anyone remembered later about that night was what happened after the black-and-whites hit the scene, once West was being checked over in the regulation-demanded ambulance that appeared on scene, and his car was being towed back to the garage.

The excitement came in the form of a blur of motion, the screeching arrival of a big white van with a STAR Labs logo. A frantic voice demanding access to the ambulance, and barking about how he had ‘consultant credentials’ so they had to let him in.

Most of the cops who’d arrived to play clean-up with West’s mess recognized the new arrival, so he was let through despite ‘consultant credentials’ being an entirely bullshit phrase. They knew this young guy. More importantly, the young guy knew Captain Singh, and thus wasn’t someone to piss off if it could be helped.

Not one of them would have ever guessed what he’d do once he reached the ambulance, though. There would be talk for months about it. Years, really. Cops had long memories and gossip was so rarely true that the true stuff became legend.

Because the guy, Cisco Ramon, Ramon de la Mancha, was so over-the-top frantic and worried and anxious to get close that he ended up rushing right to the side of Joe West, seasoned and respected detective, despite the EMTs and cops hovering. And Cisco grabbed West by the arms, looked him over, and then, in front of god and EMTs and cops and everyone in the gathering civilian crowd...

...he hauled the startled detective down and kissed him right on the mouth.

Not even just a kiss, the gossip said later. The kind of shit they end movies with. Grand. Epic. Somebody swore one of the bars must’ve opened its doors right then, or a car drove past extra slow blaring its radio, or some damn thing, because there was _music_ in the air while they were sucking face.

Too many pairs of eyes stayed on those two while that kiss seemed to go on and on. And too many people saw West suddenly tense up and jerk back. And look around, eyeing the onlookers, the staring faces that were too bald-faced about their nosiness to even turn away when Joe looked directly at them.

Cisco looked around too, after a beat, nothing but eyeballs as his brain must’ve kicked in and reminded him that they were surrounded by nosy cops.

Reminded him, it was worth noting, that he’d just basically _outed_ a locally-famous detective in front of about a dozen of his gossipy-assed coworkers.

At first West seemed uptight about the fact, which no one could blame him for later. He got real stiff and shot Ramon a look that was almost angry.

But Ramon leaned in and said something to him that nobody heard. West softened almost at once, and his arm slid around Cisco, and next time he looked around it was with a set to his jaw. He met the eyes of every single person still watching, daring them to have a problem with it.

And no matter if the cops watching fell on the ‘it’s 2016 who gives an actual solid shit’ side of the scale, or the ‘queers aren’t real men, not on my force’ side, not a single person even thought about getting in West’s face about it.

 

* * *

 

 

The Actual Beginning (one week earlier):

It had seemed like a promising list when they started making it. Between Joe and Singh there weren’t many men in the CCPD they didn’t know. Joe had worked with detectives in every unit, and with the uniformed beat as often as possible. He moved around. The meta task force alone had introduced him to all kinds of different officers, either ones who were interested in working it or ones who’d worked cases that they now suspected meta involvement in.

But. That once-promising list was now a creased piece of printer paper with ink slashed through every single name.

First the married guys were ruled out, along with anyone in a serious relationship. Then the ones Singh deemed unrealistic: basically anyone who - as he put it - wasn't 'in the same league’ as Joe. (Joe was flattered as hell to realize that the compliment there was directed his way.) Then anyone that they knew was either lousy at undercover or who Singh thought wouldn't be okay with this particular role.

Joe didn’t ask if they’d be unreceptive about the nature of the role itself, or Joe's part in it, but he did make a mental note about those names.

They then crossed off anyone who didn’t know Joe well enough to pull this off as quickly as it needed to be pulled off. And, lastly, anyone who either of them suspected could be the person they were setting up to catch.

Depressingly, at that point their promising list was entirely crossed out.

Singh was still scouring the inked-up names, determined to think of someone they’d missed, but his defeated sigh wasn’t too long in coming. “So. This isn’t looking hopeful.”

Joe snorted, draining the dregs of his cold coffee and crumbling the cup, tossing it at Singh’s trash as a minor way to vent his frustration.

“This is just our precinct, though. You’ve worked with--”

“No. It has to be someone here, we’ve talked all that out already.”

Singh sighed. He followed Joe’s gaze out the window, at the depressingly unsuitable room full of detectives.

There was nothing good about this meeting, this list, this case. But Joe hadn’t been ready for the possibility that it would be over before it began just because it was a complicated situation and Joe West had a reputation these days.

“Let me talk to Rob.”

Joe’s eyes snapped back to Singh. “David. We’ve had that discussion too.”

Singh nodded, but his gaze seemed to sharpen even as Joe answered. He stared out the window for a moment, then slowly looked back at Joe with his mouth tilting up just enough to be worrying. “You know, there are a few men who work for this department but aren’t cops.”

Joe blinked. He looked back out the window, trying to spot what Singh was smiling about. His eyes caught on Barry, sitting on the edge of Joe’s desk with a folder in his hands, chatting with a couple of detectives as he waited for Joe.

Joe peered back at Singh. “And since I know my foster son is not actually a serious suggestion in any kind of way…”

Singh nodded back out the window. “Joe.”

Joe scowled, but glanced over again.

Behind Barry, grinning and sitting in Joe’s chair even though they’d had that particular discussion more than once in the past, was the scientific adviser of Joe’s now-defunct meta response team.

Cisco must have come in with Barry, since they hadn’t called him in for any official reason. Joe was starting to have sinking feelings about that folder in Barry’s hand and what it might mean about the evidence from Joe’s latest robbery case.

He turned back to Singh, still scowling. “How is that any more serious?”

Singh tapped the list on his desk. “He works for us. He would probably be willing. He’s worked with you enough to know you well. In fact you two have a relationship outside of the job, right? Thanks to that lab and how they helped with Barry?”

“He’s a civilian,” Joe answered. “We ruled that out from the start.”

“He’s an official employee of this department.”

“ _Civilian_ employee. That’s not a gray area for me.”

“Joe. He’s seen enough to know what he’d be getting into. He’s on the front lines with those meta gadgets of his all the time, anyway.”  

“That’s no reason to deliberately put him there again.”

Singh let out a breath, but pushed the useless list across the desk. “Then forget about the whole thing. Nobody fits the requirements, and we’re out of options. Frankly, that’s not breaking my heart. I can’t say I was ever in favor of--”

Joe, with a faint growl, stood up.

Singh sat back, expression neutral.

But there Joe hesitated. He had argued hard for this op, and it wasn’t going to die before it even had a chance. He knew why Singh wasn’t in favor of it. He also knew that there were more than enough reasons to push past some discomfort and do what had to be done.

So, fine. Singh had to compromise; maybe Joe did too.

“We’ll talk to him,” he allowed, trying not to sound as openly grouchy as he felt about it. “Hypothetically. No pressure.”

Singh lifted his hands in acceptance.

Joe stood for a moment longer, regarding the room outside that office. Barry and Cisco were talking, laughing about whatever in nerd-genius hell those two laughed about.

He took in Cisco, trying to see him from a stranger’s perspective. He seemed absurdly young at that moment, handsome and cheerful and bright-eyed and brilliant. He and Barry always brought out the juvenile in each other. Joe used to love seeing that, because Barry didn’t let himself just be _young_ very often. But suddenly it came across a little disturbing.

He shook his head with a huff of air. “Nobody would ever buy it.”

“No?” Singh didn’t sound worried.

“He’s a kid.”

“Mid-twenties is not--”

“Younger than my kids.”

“Older than Wally.”

“David.” Joe glanced back at him in time to see Singh covering up a smirk. “He’s a brainy science nerd of a _kid_. I don’t know which one of us it would be less realistic for.”

Singh’s mouth quirked again, but he shrugged. “Let’s deal with that once he’s read in, if he’s even interested. Cart before the horse, and all that.”

Joe heaved a sigh and pushed the office door open.

As he walked the floor of the squad room towards his desk, he tried not to feel too much dismay over this entire idea. Maybe it really was a bad op. Maybe it wasn’t necessary. Maybe a few phone calls and letters were coincidence. Harmless.

Maybe he didn’t have to uproot his entire life in such a real way, even if it was just temporary.

But maybes weren’t how he lived his life. He was a cop. He dealt with certainty, evidence and fact. He would never dismiss a threat towards a friend as a ‘maybe’ any other time. He wouldn’t ignore timing and circumstance.

Ignoring it now because of possible personal discomfort? That would make him the kind of man he despised.

Still. This was going to be awkward as all hell.

“Hey, you two,” he greeted when he got to his desk. He smiled at Barry and glared at Cisco. “Get your ass out of my chair.”

Cisco’s answering grin faded with a roll of eyes. He heaved a huge sigh and pushed out of Joe’s chair, muttering something about territorial killjoys.

Joe chose to ignore it. “Captain wants to talk to you, Cisco.”

Cisco lit back up in a smile without missing a beat. “Oh ho, something to do? More badge earning? Hell yeah.” He smacked Barry on the arm and loped off towards the office Joe had just left, asking no more questions.

Barry grinned after him before turning to Joe. “Hey, so. Your jewelry store robbery.”

“I figured.” Joe reached for the folder he was holding. “Is every criminal a damn meta these days?”

“Nope! I mean, she might be, who knows, but that’s not the big news here. She’s a repeat customer, and you put her away once already.”

“Oh?” Joe flipped open the report with more interest. No fingerprints on scene, only a single hair caught in some of the glass from the window. No meta, just DNA results.

God bless the classics.

“Katherine Spurro. Yep, I remember her.”

“Served her time and walked out of East Heights five months ago,” Barry reported cheerfully. “She’s even got a current address listed with her PO.”

Joe slapped the folder shut, pleased. “Hot damn. Thanks, Bar. I could use an easy win right now.”

Barry straightened from his slouch against Joe’s desk. “Don’t jinx it. I better head back upstairs. Is everything cool with Cisco?”

Joe glanced back at Singh’s office. They were looking deep in conversation already, which wasn’t heartening. “Yeah, should be, just brainstorming. I better go peek in. See you tonight?”

“Lasagna. I owe Iris a butt-kicking after the stir fry Saturday.”

Joe grinned. “You kids are so useful when you’re being competitive.”

Barry rolled his eyes, but clapped him on the arm and headed towards the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, odds are it’s exactly what it looks like. I give about a five percent chance to another theory, though.”

Joe knocked on the door even as he pushed it open, frowning at Singh to show his displeasure at this getting started without him. Not that he thought David would seriously pressure a civilian into a potentially-dangerous assignment, but reassurances never hurt.

Singh barely glanced over. He and Cisco were looking over the crime scene photos now covering his desk.

Cisco’s face was faintly gray. He didn’t look up when the door opened and closed and Joe moved in behind him. “I don’t...do you think a meta did this?”

“No. Worse.” Singh exchanged grim looks with Joe.

Joe moved behind the chair Cisco sat hunched in, and rested his hand on the back of it. “We think it was a cop.”

Cisco looked up at that, a jerk of his head. “You think a cop attacked another cop? Did _this_ to him?”

“It’s not unheard of. It’s not _common_ , but…” Singh held out one of the photos, a long shot of the wall from the crime scene. “Even cops can have their prejudices.”

Joe frowned at the photo over Cisco’s shoulder, though he’d studied it a dozen times already.

Jacob Whitman had been a relatively new detective, promoted up from the uniforms about nine months ago. He was in Robbery, and his career had been steady and promising, if unremarkable. He would have been a good, reliable detective.

Maybe he still would. But it wouldn’t be in Central City.

He’d been getting messages for a few weeks, he told Singh when he came in to give his resignation. Threats against him, and against his longtime boyfriend, all revolving around him leaving the force. Quietly, he told Singh. He wasn’t supposed to be saying a word about why he was going. But he was no coward, and though he was leaving he wasn’t going to keep the reason a secret.

He wouldn’t have left at all, except their home had been broken into and ransacked, and Whitman himself was attacked when he got home early and nearly caught whoever was inside. Shot in the arm, then pistol-whipped in the back of the head hard enough that he still had some pretty bad post-concussion symptoms. Some nasty vertigo, and no memory at all about what happened the entire day of the attack.

He could handle the stress and the violence that came with being a cop, as he told Singh, but like every cop Joe ever knew he drew the line at it following him home. So he was leaving, but he wanted Singh to have every scrap of evidence in case this started happening again to someone else.

Singh was already talking to captains in precincts around Chicago, where Whitman was headed. He would help him get settled as much as he could.

Which left Singh - and Joe, who he trusted enough to bring in on this the same day Whitman left - to try and figure out who had driven Whitman out of state and what their next plan was.

Cops got threats all the time, but it was different when it came from in-house. Joe never would have figured one of the men or women he served with would be so hateful about a fellow officer just because he was gay, but he knew better than to deny the possibility.

The photos Whitman’s partner took of his defaced home made that clear. Not just the blatant threat that was spelled out in letters almost two feet high, but the fact that the words were made of photographs. Dozens, hundreds of pictures snapped of Whitman and his longtime boyfriend. All informal, unposed, taken through windows and on the streets and in restaurants. Some taken from a distance, some from alarmingly close.

Whoever was threatening Whitman had stalked him for weeks beforehand, taking pictures and planning this out. Given that, it was a minor miracle that Whitman walking in on the perp hadn’t led to more than a concussion.

It was a shot of that wall, that giant QUIT OR DIE so neatly spelled out with those alarming photos, that Cisco was looking at right then. He looked up from the picture after a moment.

“Wait, what’s the other theory? The five-percent one?”

Joe leaned over him and gestured at the picture. “That this is a distraction hiding another motive for the threats against Whitman. There’s no evidence for that, but we can’t dismiss it out of hand. And there’s a discrepancy here I don’t like. The way the home was ransacked, and the way Whitman was hurt, that was emotional, personal. This threat? This is near-clinical. These photos were pinned up in damn near perfect lines, the letters clean and neat. It would have taken time and focus. It doesn’t quite fit.”

“Which could also be explained by the fact that Whitman put this to a stop before it could escalate further. Maybe it fits some kind of larger plan, maybe not. No way to know as of now.”

Cisco glanced back at Joe, then Singh, then back at the picture. He let out a breath. “It’s less cool to be a cop than I once thought.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Joe sighed, but met Singh’s eyes over the desk.

Singh cleared his throat. “Supporting the theory that this is exactly what it appears to be, since Whitman left the city there have been a few...troubling phone calls and messages to my own home.”

“What?” Cisco looked up fast, all eyes. “Is Rob okay?”

Singh blinked. “He’s fine. How the hell do you know...wait, forget it, let’s stay on point here. This thing with Detective Whitman started out the same way. The letters I’ve received match the ones he gave us perfectly. Whoever chased him away is obviously not done cleaning house.”

“See, this is why meta crimes are better. There’s never much mystery about them.” Cisco’s face creased unhappily as he pushed the pictures back up the desk. “So...what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” Joe said, moving around the chair to hike up against the corner of the desk and peer down at the young man in front of him, “is that we’re going to give whoever is doing this a new target. The Captain and his innocent civilian husband are about to take a very overdue trip out of state to meet the in-laws, and in the meantime someone else is about to get outed pretty publically.”

“Who?” Cisco leaned in to Joe, curious as always.

Joe raised his hand.

Cisco’s eyes went wide. “You’re...oh, you’re not? It’s an act?”

Joe shrugged. “What I am is no one’s business. What they think I am is now part of the job.”

“So...you get outed to make yourself a target, they start coming after you with these freaky threats, and then you nab them.”

“That’s the basic idea.” Singh leaned in and smacked Joe’s arm. “Get your ass off my desk.”

Joe heard Cisco’s amused snort and shot him a faint smile as he slid off the desk. “Captain’s not the biggest fan of this plan.”

“It’s more complicated than it sounds.” Singh studied Cisco. “What Joe’s doing is something we call a living cover. He’s going undercover in his own life, which means everything will be affected by this. Everyone at this station will believe he’s out. His family, his friends. That’s the only way this works. Whoever this is, the fact that they were watching Whitman so closely for so long means that’s the only way to play this. Everyone has to be made to believe the story until this psycho is caught. And whoever it is that Joe is outed with, it’s going to have to be the same for them.”

Cisco nodded. “Makes sense. Sounds dangerous.”

“It is,” Joe said a little too fast. “And it’s consuming. It’s twenty-four-seven. It’s got to follow me home. With Whitman the process was slow but escalating. Might be the same here. This might last for weeks. The captain’s heading out of town until I start getting some attention, and then he’ll be back, and we’ll have to make sure the killer’s focus stays on me. But I’m not the only one in this. Whoever I get outed with, they’re going to have the same conditions. Lie to everyone, uproot their lives for weeks. And they’ll be put in the crosshairs of whoever it is who has the hate in their hearts to go after a good man the way they went after Whitman.”

Cisco frowned as he was talking, his brow furrowed. “Holy crap, this sounds complicated. Who do you have in mind to do this with? It’s not like you’re all that social outside of…” He blinked over at Singh, stopping himself, but whatever he was going to say seemed to simply reform into something else, because he went on almost instantly. “Hey, I could do it!”

“What?” Joe and Singh answered at the same time. Joe’s shock was real - he figured Cisco would be talked into it easily if they wanted to try, but he hadn’t expected him to outright volunteer.

Singh’s surprise seemed a little less genuine.

“Me. I could...could I? Is that a dumb idea?”

Singh’s eyebrows rose. “You.”

“Yeah. I mean...was Whitman’s boyfriend targeted too?”

Singh glanced at Joe. “Not really. He’s in those photos, obviously, but the letters and threats were directed only at Whitman.”

“And he wasn’t a cop, right?”

“Lawyer. Well, intern.”

“Exactly. Your dude’s only focused on the gay cop part. If you get two cops to do this then you’ve got to guess which one your crazy stalker will go after first, right? Splitting resources, that’d make things harder. So bam, you gotta have a non-cop do this. And I know Joe, we work together all the time. I could totally do this.”

Singh shot Joe a mild but triumphant look.

Joe frowned, finding that the enthusiasm and volunteering didn’t do much to make him feel better about the whole thing. “You want to lie to everybody you know?”

Cisco snorted again, his expression a little incredulous. And, okay, Joe could appreciate that - lying to everyone was what Cisco and Joe and the entire STAR crew were used to.

Still, Cisco shrugged. “Not that big a lie. Lots of people know I’m bi. I’ve been dating dudes since high school. Ain’t no thing.”

Joe should have been relieved by that, or surprised. Instead he just felt his shoulders square up and his back get more stiff.

“That’s even better,” Singh said easily. “You do know Joe pretty well. You’d be alright having to play the part of a physically affectionate boyfriend for some silent spectator?”

Cisco glanced over at Joe, his expression amused as he swept his gaze over him. Speculative.

Joe felt his face heating, and he tensed even more.

He and Cisco had worked together a lot, that was true. More than Joe had worked with anyone else at STAR. More than he had any right working with a guy who wasn’t even a cop. Hell, he knew Cisco better than he’d known Patty. She had been a pretty brief partner, but it was still strange to realize that.

He’d liked Cisco from the start, this strange but helpful young scientist who was willing to work with Wells and Snow to save Barry’s life. He appreciated Cisco’s enthusiasm, and the warmth he had that no one else at that lab used to have for the invading West family.

He could also appreciate Cisco’s contributions now that they had worked together in areas Joe was more familiar with than labs and metahumans. He couldn’t forget that Cisco had pulled out some random equipment and ended up giving Joe the kind of leads on Nora Allen’s murder that no cop had the right to hope for, even when the crime wasn’t fifteen years cold.

Cisco and Joe had taken a single road trip on a wild hunch and, thanks to Cisco’s tech, found the long-dead body of Harrison Wells.

They worked surprisingly well together. That had to be a consideration.

In the months after the singularity, after things at the lab had fallen apart so thoroughly, Cisco had surprised Joe by staying more involved in Joe’s world than anyone else. More than Barry, even, and Barry still worked at the station 40 hours a week. Cisco volunteered his time enthusiastically, first with helping Iron Heights modify cells to become capable of holding metas, then with signing on to the task force as a consultant, for whatever kind of pittance it must have paid him.

He was a good guy, solid despite being a little irreverent. He was a smart, intuitive person who, yeah, had faced danger more than a few times himself and come out the other side alright.

If Joe was being extremely honest with himself, he had to add that Cisco was also a caring, funny, and damned attractive guy. That was something Joe had noticed more than he wanted to. But he noticed it as a lark, a nothing. Joe was no stranger to attraction to men, but noticing Cisco...that had never been a serious thing.

So why, there in Singh’s office, did that cheerful sweeping look from Cisco wash over Joe like a bucket of ice-cold water? Why did he go more stiff at the shoulders and straighten from his slouch against the desk, and suddenly regret ever considering this possibility?

Unaware of Joe’s thoughts, Cisco grinned back at Singh. “Yeah, listen, being physically affectionate is totally not gonna be a problem here. Anyway, I have my honorary cop badge, I should get to do the cool undercover Bond stuff, right?”

“No.” Joe answered tersely. “No spy stuff. This isn’t an adventure. We’re going to play out a few public scenes, enough to give this guy lots of fodder to turn on me, and that’s going to be the end of it.”

“Except for the part where the guy was following Whitman and Kyle everywhere for weeks,” Singh replied before Cisco could. “Don’t minimize this, Joe. It’s not an adventure, but it’s not cut and dry, either.”

“Which is why I don’t want to bring a civilian into it,” Joe snapped in response, feeling the weight of Cisco’s wide-eyed gaze on him. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t take it lightly, Joe, seriously. I get it, stalking and danger, concussions and bad things. I can handle that.”

Joe shook his head even as Cisco talked. “No. This was a mistake, bringing this to you. No civilians. I’m doing this instead of letting Singh see it through strictly because Rob doesn’t need to be put into danger. Replacing him with another civilian just makes the whole thing redundant. And there’d be liability issues enough to get both of us fired, Captain, you know that as well as I do.”

Singh frowned at him, surprise clear in his gaze as he took in Joe’s vehement argument. “So what’s your alternative, Detective?”

“I don’t know. Yet. But there’s got to be one.” He shot Cisco a look, and tried not to notice the wounded expression on his face. “I appreciate you volunteering, but no.”

“Because it’s dangerous? Really? You’re seriously using that as your reason?” Cisco eyeballed him right back, the hurt morphing right into mulishness.

“You have no idea what you’d be getting--”

“Joe. Consider the last two years of our lives.”

Joe grimaced, but turned his glare to the wall. “I’ve made up my mind. This discussion is over.”

“Oh my god, really? At least now I know where Barry gets his insufferable wrong-ass stubbornness from.”

“Because I won’t go undercover partnered with someone who treats it like a Bond movie?”

“Oh, give me a break! Just because I can see a silver lining doesn’t mean I don’t take it seriously.”

“Silver lining?” Joe shot back, arms folded across his chest. “Do I need to remind you that one man’s already been seriously injured and driven out of his home, and ano--”

“Joe, come on.” Cisco rolled his eyes but stood up and faced him down. “Of all the people in this room which one has actually literally died already? If you think a few jokes mean I don’t understand the idea of danger then you’re just being obtuse on purpose.”

At the mention of Cisco dying, Joe shot Singh a quick glance. Singh frowned at Cisco sharply, but after a moment of that his months-old strategy of not asking any kind of questions about any of the weird shit Cisco Ramon had to say seemed to stay intact.

Joe appealed to him since Cisco didn’t seem to be listening. “You know I’m right, Captain.”

“Mr. Ramon had a point about not using another cop.”

“Damn right I did.”

Joe shot Cisco an irritated look. Cisco returned it.

They stared hard at each other.

Singh laughed suddenly, a burst of sound that he quickly pushed down. “And you think nobody would buy you two as a couple,” he said to Joe. “I mean, me, I’d play this more on the happy-newlywed side than the married-forty-years-and-arguing-about-everything side, but hey. It’s your op.”

Joe scowled, but faced Cisco with a humph of air and the feeling he’d pretty much lost this battle since the moment Singh got the idea of asking Cisco to do it.

Cisco scowled right back at him, but he must have picked up on the defeat in Joe’s expression, because all the sudden the sun broke through the stormclouds in his expression and he beamed at him.

“It’s cool. My ma always used to say that fighting was a sign of a strong relationship.”

Joe groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco Ramon was used to forcing his way into places that didn’t want him. It was the story of his life. He was a guy who practically had to crash his own brother’s birthday party because, frankly, nobody in his family missed him when he was gone.

He’d shoved his way through school, rammed through engineering courses despite even the other science geeks eyeballing him like he was supposed to be emptying the trash instead of doing the homework. Even the professors sometimes. He’d all but conned his way into going to work at STAR, he’d stayed on stubbornly after it went down in flames. And when people warned that it would be the death of his career, he didn’t listen. He figured that if he had to eventually he’d shoulder his way into another lab, even if nobody wanted to hire him on.

It was what he did.

He was so used to being doubted that the moment anyone regarded him with a furrowed brow and a dubious eye-sweep his instant response was to square his shoulders and shove his way past them.

Which wasn’t a bad characteristic to have, considering that there were a lot of days when his own self-doubts bellowed their unceasing presence in his mind non-stop until he was afraid to move in any direction. He wasn’t ever sure if he was ignoring those doubts or answering them, when he forced his way into places that didn’t want him there.

Whatever he was, whatever his flaws, Cisco had never met a challenge that he couldn’t face. He never met a concept so wild that he couldn’t build it into a working model. A few hours at gunpoint, some basic tech, a dead mobster’s dining room, bam: gun that encased things into gold. (Well, a golden-hued resin that expanded from an electrically-activated gel into breathable but rock-hard plating.) Hell, Cisco had basically perfected a scientifically valid tinfoil hat to keep a telepathic gorilla out of his pal’s brain. Take that, haters.

Still, determination and willfully ignoring people’s doubts did get him into trouble now and then.

For instance: apparently he had just bulldozed his way into playing the role of his best pal’s foster dad’s gay lover for an undetermined amount of weeks, despite the fact that Cisco was kind of a crap liar and had no real experience with undercover work.

Or relationships.

All it had taken was Joe West frowning down at him sternly and saying no. He could’ve taken or left it before that moment, really.

But he let his incessant stubbornness win without a thought, and only once he was home in his apartment cooking up some frozen pizza, without an opponent to face, did he begin to realize what a bad move he might have just made.

The lying part didn’t bother him much. He was shit at it, but he figured any hesitation he had would be explained away as nervousness from being outed with Joe more than any kind of deceit.

Lying to his friends was a little tougher to brush off, but then it didn’t really feel like one of those life-or-death lies that they tended to tell. It was just one more way Cisco could help stop a bad guy. That was worth it, right? Their team had a body count, after all, so lying wouldn’t be the worst thing one of them had done.

The danger didn’t bother him either. He was truly tired of constantly being scared, but Zoom had been defeated, there were no more interdimensional metahumans around, and Harry Wells wasn’t strutting his dickhead self around Cisco’s lab anymore. (Okay, if pressed Cisco would be willing to admit that he missed that last one. Once Harry wasn’t trying to terrify powers out of him, or throw things around like he was raised by pre-schoolers who were raised by cats, he’d been a good lab partner. Mostly. Sometimes.)

If ever there was a time to take on a new fear, this was it. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much. Besides, as nice as it would hypothetically be to have nothing to fear, it would probably feel unnatural these days.

Of course Cisco himself had uncontrollable meta powers keeping him up some nights and forcing him to stay well stocked in Excedrin, so the fear never left entirely. But as much as he hated being scared all the damned time, he knew he’d survive it. Even if he didn’t do this thing with Joe he’d still end up being scared of a dozen other things. Metas, powers, whatever the next inevitable crisis turned out to be.

So fear was no reason to say no. Besides, some creep stalking gay cops and driving them off the force was worth facing a little fear.

But there was _one_ good reason to say no that he hadn’t let himself think about back in that office. He didn’t particularly want to think about it now, at home alone making his cheap frozen pizza, but silence was the enemy of avoidance.

Luckily, he always had ways to break the silence.

She answered on the third ring. “Cisco?”

“Hey! Kendra. Hi. Hello.”

She laughed, all warm and nice and gorgeous and damn it. “You know you’re very thorough in your greetings. I appreciate that.”

“You like laughing at the social failure, you mean.”

“Same diff. What’s up? Trouble?”

“Nah. I mean always, but no. What about you and the birdman? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, so far so good. We’re in...we’re either in Alaska or we’re still in BC, I don’t even know anymore. It’s cold as hell and so beautiful it would take your breath away. But nothing more exciting than some training.”

“Well, slap Carter in the balls for me, yeah?”

She laughed easily. “So what’s up? Not that I don’t appreciate random phone calls, but history tells me you’re usually a texter.”

He dropped on his sofa and sighed. “I’m gonna be outed at work, I guess?”

“You’re gonna what now?”

“Long story short: I have to pretend to be involved with a man I know, probably for a few weeks. It’s an undercover stopping-bad-guys kind of thing, which should be cool, right?”

“Cisco. You’re an engineer at a place that employs three people.”

“Oh, I work for the CCPD too. Sometimes. Mostly on paper these days.”

“And the CCPD ordered you to be in a relationship for a few weeks?”

“Well, I volunteered.”

“Uh huh.” She still seemed dubious. “Should you be telling me?”

“Nope. They’d kill me if they found out, and we’d be done before we started. But I can’t exactly talk to anyone else about it, and who better to trust than a reincarnated hawk goddess who’s off on wild adventures far from Central City with her newly-revived reincarnated hawk god boyfriend?”

“We do lead interesting lives these days, you and I.”

He laughed, and knew calling her was the right thing to do. Not for the job or the op, but for his own good.

Kendra was a regret, something that still smarted now and then. But their relationship had been brief enough and was old enough now that he could get past the ache of it. She was a friend now, which was great. He knew her way better now than he had when they were dating.

Though to be fair she knew way more about herself now than she had back then.

She was in the unusual position of being aware of his insane life and most of its intricacies and secrets, and also being apart from it. Cisco didn’t have to share her with Barry or Joe or anyone else now that she and Carter had set out on their own. She was safe and far away, and all his.

He didn’t have anyone else like that.

“So. What’s your new boyfriend’s name?”

Cisco sighed before he could stop himself. “Joe.”

“Mm.”

“He’s a stunning older Black gentleman with a goatee and a smile that makes birds sing, who carries a gun and punches bad people in their stupid faces and laughs at my jokes. It’s all super sexy.”

“Wow.” She laughed again. “Well, I’m convinced, and I already know it’s an act.”

His grin faded, and he flopped back against the back of the couch, groaning to himself.

That right there...that was the one reason he should have said no. The one thing he was trying not to think about.

Because damn it.

It wasn’t that Joe actually was a really sexy dude, and it wasn’t the fact that he was tough and brave in a way Cisco had never been, and it wasn’t the way he lit up and the squinty laughs he tried so hard to repress when Cisco was being a smart-ass. Or the rumble of his voice or the way he cared about everybody and everything, especially his ridiculously beautiful family.

It was all of the above.

“Cisco.” Kendra was a little sing-song in his ear suddenly, through the pause. “I sense a disturbance in the force.”

He groaned more loudly. “Quoting Star Wars. Would you just get back here and marry me already? I mean even if it’s just to see the look on Carter’s face.”

“These days he’s more likely to swing a mace than stand around looking distressed. Now come on. What’s the full story here?”

He sat back again, blowing out a sigh. “Okay, it’s not like I have some _crush_ on Joe that’s only going to be wildly exacerbated by this whole thing. It’s not that. Not at all. It’s...some other thing.”

“I need exactly none of my four thousand years of experience to tell me you’re lying.” Kendra didn’t sound chastising so much as delighted. “You like this guy!”

“He very literally has a daughter who is older than me.”

“Okay.”

“I mean to be fair he also has a son who’s younger than me, so. It could be worse.”

“Should I tell you stories about how common marriages between people of vastly different ages have been through my entire history?”

“Nah, I’m cool. I just. He’s doing his job here. That’s what this is. Which means it’s important that whatever crush I do or do not have does not become an issue, because I have to be able to do this right.” The oven timer dinged his sad frozen pizza’s readiness, but almost went unheard. “I can’t mess it up, it’s important. And I get the feeling that short of hurting one of his kids, screwing up an assignment for his job would be the worst thing I could do in his eyes.”

“Alright, two things. One, you deal with life and death stuff all the time. You’re smart and you know how to handle things. I haven’t forgotten the way you stepped between me and Savage that first time he showed up. I’ve lived and died over two hundred times, Cisco. I can count on two hands the number of people who ever tried to come between me and my deaths, besides Carter. You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

He could feel the heat in his face as she went on, and spoke quickly when she paused for a breath. “Maybe if I had realized at the time that he was an immortal warlock or whatever the hell…” He pushed his way off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

“Shut up, you still would have done exactly what you did.”

“So what’s the second thing?”

“The...oh. Just, he must already trust you a lot if you’re even doing this in the first place, so maybe he’s got some kind of an idea about how great you are. Maybe this is your chance to show him what you’re made of, get a mutual crush thing going.”

He blinked, grabbing an oven mitt. “That’s--”

“Nope, no jokes, no interruptions.” But then she was quiet for a moment.

Long enough for him to pull his pizza out and make a face at the mass of unmelted cheese in the middle. Why, baby jesus? He didn’t have enough problems tonight?

“You deserve to be happy, Cisco. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be a part of that. If this guy’s as smart as you say he is, maybe he’ll grab you while he can.”

He considered that, and answered sincerely. “I’m not sure if that idea terrifies me more or less than the possibility that I might just blow everything.”

Feeling strangely unnerved, he shoved the pizza back into the oven, perfectly aware that now he would forget about it until it burned.

It was not, he told himself as he focused on the phone again and the lovely amazing woman who wanted to talk to him even after having a perfectly acceptable out, _not_ a sign of things to come. Not a harbinger of bad luck. It was just frozen pizza.

Besides, for all the charging around forcing himself into places that Cisco had done in his life, his luck had still always been shit.

 

* * *

 

 

_There's no reason why we should be apart_

_Mmmm, Oh baby_

_Cause searching for something out there_

_Will leave two lonely hearts..._

 

“Dad?”

Joe turned away from the open fridge and grinned. “Hey! I didn’t know you were home, I’d’ve come up.”

Wally tossed an overloaded bookbag on the dining room table and bounded into the kitchen. “It’s cool, I know to follow the sounds of old-guy music if I need to find you.”

“Oh, you got jokes.” Joe grabbed his phone and turned down the volume on the music before tossing it back on the counter. “Plans tonight?”

“Cram session. Chemistry mid-term’s coming up, a few of us are doing the whole nerdy flash-card quiz thing.”

“This late?”

“University library’s open until midnight.” He shrugged. “I’m told that people move in there before finals. Sleep under the tables. It’s all kinda grim.”

“I guess I don’t need to make a big dinner, then.”

“Nah, I’ll grab a burger after. Where’s Iris and Barry?”

“Working late, both of them. Apparently.”

“Sneak-superheroing?”

“Better not be.”

“Huh.” Wally considered that, but shrugged and grinned at Joe. “Okay, I’m out. Have a boring night, dad.”

Joe laughed, but took that as the blessing it was no doubt supposed to be. “You too, son.” He grabbed him in a quick hug before letting him jog off.

He turned back to his dinner preparations after hearing the sound of the front door slamming.

It was nice. All of it. The pounding of footsteps from overhead, the slamming of doors, the grinning jokes about his age. The worrying about exams. It made Joe nostalgic, going through it all again.

And of course there were other, stronger reasons why having Wally in the house felt like a miracle.

Joe sometimes had to remind himself that he was doing enough, that he wasn’t solely responsible for making up for Wally’s first eighteen years without a father. But when he forgot and got a little too intense with his parenting, Wally or Iris were quick to call him on it.

Just having Wally around, with his rolling eyes and his hope and intelligence, and Joe’s father’s wide ears, flashing Francine’s crooked grin, felt like a blessing. That probably wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

Still, once Wally had pounded out of the house Joe was left in silence again.

He looked back into the fridge, but with less enthusiasm. He should have learned to be thankful for quiet nights at home, but he’d never quite gotten used to the concept of an empty nest, not even for a night.

Joe was about seventy percent sure that these late nights that Barry and Iris were both suddenly having to work were a cover. He knew damn well that there wasn’t such a backlog at the station that Barry would have been needed there, and Barry would have simply said if he was going to the lab to work on Flash-related things. Iris wasn’t talking about any big stories lately, either.

It wasn’t hard to see that their relationship had changed a lot lately. They were open books, those kids, and Joe both knew them well and kept his eyes wide open. But they weren’t talking yet, so he wasn’t prying. If they were going out together, whether as best friends or as something more, he’d let them tell him on their own time.

It was about time, either way. And good for them, that they were salvaging something from the train wreck of the last few weeks.

None of that helped him get any more adjusted to the art of cooking for one, though.

Before he could start pulling things out of the fridge, his phone rang. He grabbed it, frowned a little at the name on the display, but answered fast.

“Cisco. What’s up?”

“Hey, Joe! Do you realize there’s an art to the timing of frozen pizzas when you’re using an oven that’s forty years old and hates you, and that art is impossible to master?”

Joe blinked, but chuckled after a moment. “You’ve been to my place often enough to know that I am not frozen pizza people. Strictly the finest take-out pizza Barry’s willing to run and get in Casa West.”

“That is true. So hey, my planned dinner is a bust and I figure we’ve got things to talk about, right? Like probably a lot of things. So maybe you could invite me over for some of that gourmet Casa West food and we can talk.”

Joe’s smile vanished as he was talking.

He still wasn’t anything like sure about this whole thing. The assignment itself, sure. One hundred percent necessary. But Cisco Ramon playing a part in it? Joe wasn’t convinced yet that there wasn’t a single officer in the CCPD who would be better suited.

But.

Every day they postponed getting this started was one more day of David Singh and his husband being in this bastard’s crosshairs. That wasn’t something Joe wanted to drag out. And Cisco...he was a civilian, there was no getting around that. But he was Team Flash. He had faced down the kinds of things that no civilian should and he’d come out alive.

If it had to be a civilian, Cisco was a good choice. As ridiculous as that seemed.

But.

“Joe?”

He drew himself out of his darkening thoughts and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m not feeling up to making anything, but you’re right. We do need to talk. Maybe--”

“We should meet somewhere else? Sure!”

“Cisco--”

“Cool. Let me track down a restaurant still serving dinner. I’ll text you in a minute.”

Joe opened his mouth, but the phone clicked in his ear and Cisco was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The moment he pushed the screen to disconnect the call, Cisco shut his eyes and let out a few uncomplimentary words about himself.

He could hear Kendra laughing at him in his head. ‘Sure, push him into some faux date and then hang upon him. He’ll never be able to resist such slickness.’

“Shut up,” he grumbled to the imaginary laughter of a woman who was way too nice to actually ever mock him so openly. “I’m doing what I can here.”

‘You realize that you don’t have to pressure a date out of a man who’s going to be openly dating you for the next few weeks, right?’

That sounded more like Hartley, all clipped and sarcastic.

It probably said something about Cisco, that these were the voices he was inventing to mock himself. But whatever, psychoanalyzing himself wasn’t one of his strengths.

He just had to suck it up, focus on the fact that this was a job, and Joe was the same guy he’d been working with on and off for almost two years now.

He could get through this. He had to.

 

* * *

 

 

Art’s Steakhouse wasn’t a bad restaurant. Wasn’t anything high-class, but it was a few steps above diner food. They served a mean t-bone. Joe had gone there before a few times, meeting friends or treating the kids. It was nice, comfortable and hushed and pretty empty this time of night.

Perfect, really.

Still, when he was walked over to the table where his ‘companion’ was waiting, he ended up dropping into his seat like a sulking teenager arriving in the principal’s office.

Cisco looked up as he huffed and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I tried to call you back about five times.”

He blinked innocently. “Oh? Damn phone.”

Joe did not smile and would not smile, damn it. “This is a strategy session, not a date. We could have met at my place, ordered pizza if you’re so hungry.”

To his surprise Cisco actually seemed to go a little red in the face. “I know, but. I figured a good way to get ahead on the strategy front was to...y’know, actually be out in public together once or twice before the big reveal. However _that’s_ supposed to happen.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, but Joe was determined to hate everything about this. He plucked his menu up from the table and opened it, holding it up to be a wall between him and this grinning civilian he was being pushed to work with.

Cisco huffed another laugh. Joe ignored him.

He always got the same thing at restaurants - he was that kind of man, let his kids tease him how they would - but he used that menu wall for a solid couple of minutes, mostly to try and get a handle on his own up and down mood.

He _liked_ Cisco. He really did. And it wasn’t like he didn’t trust him. He basically put Barry’s life in the kid’s hands every day, and didn’t lose sleep because of it.

But this. This was so different. This wasn’t Joe stepping into the strange world of metas and physics, this was Cisco coming into Joe’s turf.

Cisco had been right, back in Singh’s office. He had died. Literally been killed, and then he remembered it clearly later. Dreamed about it. Faced a new version of Harry Wells day after day all the same. He was stuck with those vibes that he seemed to hate so much, that showed him so many awful things. He had pulled Barry back from death with one somehow, him and Iris. Joe still wasn’t entirely sure how that had worked, but every time he saw Barry alive and whole and not screaming or crumbling away into dust, he was all the more grateful.

Cisco understood danger, that was for sure. And the jokes weren’t a new thing; he had always been a little irreverent about serious things. Maybe he had to be. Maybe it was the only way he could see his killer’s face every day and not go nuts, or deal with those visions his mind put him through a few times a day lately.

His menu lowered bit by bit as he thought about it.

This wasn’t the assignment he’d anticipated, no, but he couldn’t let that throw him off so badly. Cisco had volunteered for this. He wanted to help. Least Joe could do was not be a bastard about it.

“So.” He cleared his throat, setting the menu down again. “General rule for undercover assignments: the closer you stick to the truth, the easier it is. Especially for an assignment that’s going to mix with our real lives so much.”

Cisco smiled easily, like the last minutes of sulking silence never happened. “Yeah, I figured. I mean most people already know the deal with Barry and the lightning and STAR Labs, so nobody’s gonna ask how we met or anything.”

Joe nodded. “But if they do, stick with the truth: Barry was hurt, Wells had him moved to STAR, you were a tech who was there whenever me and Iris visited.”

“And you were won over by my dashing good looks and skills with a socket wrench.”

Joe sighed, but Cisco kept smiling.

Still, he thought back to those first awful weeks after the lightning, when everything settled into a new, horrible routine. Grief on top of grief in the forms of Chyre’s death and Barry’s coma, and a city in mourning for others who the accident had taken away. The lab had felt like a kind of peace sometimes, and there were real reasons for that.

“I was...grateful,” he corrected Cisco after a moment’s remembering. “Because you more than anyone else at the lab tried to make us feel welcome. You talked to us, asked about Barry. Made me feel like Barry was something more than a lab rat to you, which was more than Wells or Caitlin attempted back then.”

Cisco’s smile grew uncertain. “Is that...your cover story?”

“No. That’s real enough.” Joe let out a breath, feeling guilty for the childish way he’d approached this whole evening. “You made Iris tea,” he remembered. “Stocked up on boxes of that fancy green tea she drinks when you found out she didn’t like coffee after working at Jitters for so long. You brought her a cup every time she showed up. That meant a lot to her.”

Cisco blinked, his smile softening. “I didn’t think she really noticed.”

“She did. She mentioned it to me. You always made it too strong, but she came to like it better that way.” Joe regarded him for a moment. “Neither of us were feeling all that grateful back then.”

“Understandable.” The reply was easy, unaccusing. Warm.

Joe gestured at him. “So, your side of it?”

“My…oh, that’s easy. I took one look at this strong, handsome - if _needlessly_ tall - guy suddenly invading my lab space and I was a goner.” He brought his arm up and gave a whistle that descended in register as he dropped his hand down in an arc to thump on the table. “Splat. Just like that.”

He wanted to roll his eyes, he really did. But it didn’t feel right somehow. He just cocked up an eyebrow.

Cisco didn’t lose the grin, but thought about it another few seconds obediently. “You laughed at my jokes. Still do. That…” He shrugged, his cheeks pinking. “It’s a lot.”

Another truth. One that Joe was fully aware of. He had spent time at the lab when Cisco wasn’t there, when he was holed up working on some project or just away from the building. He always knew during those times that there’d be a lot of serious occasionally dour-faced science talk, and that was about it. Unless Barry was in a good mood. That kid could still make Joe laugh, occasionally unintentionally.

Still, he’d come to associate Cisco with at least some attempt at cheer. Making one of his lame jokes, or dumbing down the science for Joe in some enthusiastic hand-wavy way that made everything feel much more grounded than Wells or Caitlin when they threw their technical terms around.

The whole place felt different without Cisco in it. It was something Joe had noted, though he tended to think about it in terms of...entertainment value, maybe.

“That works.” He cleared his throat when his voice came out raspy, and focused on the menu again needlessly. “Everyone at the station knows about the help you’ve been with the metas, so there’s our segue. After Barry recovered, you and I kept in contact because of metahumans.”

“So far so true,” Cisco answered. “Leaving out a few massive things, anyway. So how long ago did we...hook up, or whatever?”

Joe considered. “It needs to be long enough ago that people will know it’s serious.”

“After the singularity, maybe?” Cisco laid his menu flat on the table and drummed his fingers against it lightly as he considered. “We could give the old Hollywood ‘epiphany through near-death-experience’ excuse if we need to. Also that’s the time Caitlin and Barry both...fell out of regular contact with me, so it’ll be easier to sell to them. I mean I saw you more than both of them combined. For literal months.”

“That gives us over a year of history, that’s perfect.”

A server approached. They gave their orders and handed over the menus, and for a minute silence fell.

Joe studied Cisco, realizing how good an idea this public meeting was when it occurred to him that for all the time they’d spent together, none of it was outside the lab or the station. Unless they were on scene with some meta, which didn’t count. Or at Joe’s house with everyone else around them.

He hadn’t been out to dinner with anyone at all in a long time.

“So.” Cisco looked across at him, back to drumming his fingers on the table lightly. “What else do we need to get straight? Seems to me like we’re pretty gold as far as history goes. I’d guess that for this whole last year we just, whatever, snuck around? Saw each other when we could?”

Joe shrugged. “That choice comes from both of us. I suppose I’d be the reason for any sneaking around. If you really started dating a man who wanted to stay closeted, would you be okay with hiding it?”

“Sure.” The answer came without hesitation. “Not my decision when a guy wants to come out. I would trust that you’ve got good reasons.”

“The job,” Joe said firmly. “A lot of cops are close-minded, and that can get dangerous. Obviously, considering the reason for this assignment in the first place. Singh’s out, but he’s a captain, he’s not usually on the front lines, it’s safer for him than it would be for me.”

“Is it that bad, really? I figured…”

Joe smiled wryly. “What, that the world’s more accepting these days? Sometimes, in some ways. Sometimes not. Some people are even worse. At any rate, for the purposes of this assignment that’s my story. And the assignment’s what matters.”

“So, if you really were…” Cisco hesitated, that touch of pink spreading over his face again.

Joe raised an eyebrow, waiting. He had absolutely no idea what he’d answer if Cisco summoned up the courage to actually ask, but he didn’t plan to volunteer anything that personal right off the bat.

But Cisco waved a hand after a moment’s pause. “Never mind. None of my business. What about Wally and Iris? And Barry. Why wouldn’t you tell them?”

He sat back and glanced around the relatively empty dining room as he thought about that seriously. This late there weren’t many diners, no one close enough to worry about overhearing. That was going to start becoming a concern once this op was up and running.

But in the meantime. What about his kids?

Joe - in a dubious stroke of luck - had a history of keeping things from his kids if he thought it was in their best interests. None of them would even be surprised to know he had a secret from them.

Which wasn’t a flattering thing to realize about himself as a father, but this wasn’t the time to deal with that.

“I haven’t…” He let out a breath and started again. “The kids are used to me not having any kind of personal life at all. That’s how it’s been for...a long damned time. I suppose I would keep it quiet at first if I did jump into dating someone, just because of the sheer strangeness and uncertainty of it. And I would keep you and me quiet even once I felt like it was going to work out.”

“Because I’m a guy?”

Joe shrugged. “There’s a few reasons, some better than others. Most of them I won’t have told you outright.”

Cisco smiled easily. “Then it’s a good thing I’d trust you to make the right choices for yourself. Your kids are your business. Anyway, I could come up with a few reasons why I’d be okay with not telling Barry and Caitlin about us.”

“Good. Hang on to those reasons, because I promise they’re gonna ask. In fact, if you want to tell them that some aspects of this are just none of their business, that’s a perfectly valid thing to say. If they ask about anything we haven’t talked about, or anything you don’t know about me, that can be your go-to answer.”

“I think I can handle that. Though Caitlin at least has a habit of not taking no for an answer when she wants to know something.”

“Blame me if you need to. I sure as hell wouldn’t want you talking to my kids or their friends about what we do together.”

“Gladly. That’s one of the advantages of being in a relationship, right? Sharing the blame?”

Joe had a flash of memory at that: twenty-something years ago, flipping pancakes on the stove as Francine sat fingering an envelope at the table while they debated whose turn it was to take the blame for missing out on...whatever the hell the invitation was for. Someone’s wedding or graduation or a reunion dinner or something. Francine started taking more turns in a row once her belly started to swell. They laughed about how the kid was earning its keep already, taking over in the excuse department.

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. That’s a definite advantage.”

Cisco studied him, eyebrows raised, curiosity in his dark eyes.

Joe cleared his throat. “What’s your home situation like?”

Cisco blinked at that, but shrugged. “Apartment. Just me. It’s nothing great, but it’ll be easy to have sleepovers without anyone having to sleep in the tub, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Joe laughed. “Good thing. No talking about this to my kids, and definitely no sleepovers at my house while they’re there. We can revisit that once I tell Wally and...and Iris…” He trailed off, his amusement dying a quick death.

Besides his partner in this being an untrained civilian who was so much younger than him, Joe’s main complaint about this whole undercover operation was the lies he’d have to tell Iris.

The fact that she’d think he had been keeping a relationship from her was going to be bad enough. But then having to tell her later that the relationship itself was the lie, and they were playing everybody…

She’d understand. It was work related, for a good cause. She was a cop’s daughter. But Joe had barely managed to hold onto her after lying to her before now. She had never been as furious with him as she was when she learned about Barry’s abilities, and the only reason he came out of the Francine debacle in good standing was that Iris was more angry at her mom than at him.

He didn’t want to push it. He couldn’t forget how she pleaded last year, tears in her eyes, for him to respect her enough to tell her the truth. Work-related or not, if there was some limit to her forgiveness, some point where she was going to simply stop trusting him in anything, he never wanted to find it.

He frowned down at the table, barely noticing when the server appeared again and set their food - t-bone for Joe, as usual, and blackened salmon for Cisco - in front of them. He heard Cisco thank her, and focused on the plate instead of the table, but he didn’t move.

Cisco cleared his throat. “You could just tell her.”

Joe looked across at him.

"Iris, I mean. One person wouldn’t be so bad, right? She would play along. Hell, if she agrees to it she could even act like she knew about us already, which would make us look way more legit.”

He shook his head instantly. It might have lacked conviction. “I don’t want her to have to lie for us,” he said. “But…”

Cisco smiled. “But. Just let me know what you decide on, so I can play along.”

Joe studied him, but Cisco plowed right into his food, seemingly unconcerned about the breach in protocol he was recommending. Another problem with doing this with a civilian, damn it.

But...he _could_ tell her the truth. Just her. She could help him out with Barry, she could be his confidante if things got complicated. Whoever this stalker was, they didn’t seem interested in targeting non-cops, even when they were part of the couple he was following, so she’d be safe enough.

This, he told himself absently as he watched Cisco dive into his meal, was just the kind of temptation he didn’t need on a case like this.

He changed the subject before he could think too hard about it. “I don’t like to overplan details,” he said as he cut into his steak. “Not for something like this. Most real life couples, there’s gonna be differing accounts of who said what and when, what counted as a first date, all that. We should come up with a few specific stories, but too much planning leads to sounding rehearsed. Memory’s never perfect, and it’s always affected by perception. Besides, the ones who are going to question us closest are the ones who know us best. Nobody at the station’s gonna demand receipts from dates or exact timelines.”

Cisco swallowed a bite of fish. “Cool. Not rehearsing is totally good with me.”

“But there are some things we ought to know, in case it comes up. Things about each other, at least.”

Cisco laughed. “Joe, we’ve been all up in each other’s lives for two years, we know things.”

“I’m talking a little more in depth than that.”

“Really? You think there’s a whole lot about your life right now that I don’t know?”

Joe raised his eyebrows and gestured with his knife. “Alright, hit me. What do you know about me? Remember, we’re not just talking about facts, we’re talking about things you would have developed opinions about, things that would have come up between us. Things we would have worked out about each other beyond just the obvious. Things that bug you about me, things you find endearing. That’s how relationships should work.”

“Hell yeah, challenge accepted.” Cisco set his fork down and rubbed his hands together with a grin. “Okay. Joe West.” He sat back in his chair, squinting a little as if he could pull a Sherlock Holmes with close enough examination of Joe. “Well, you’re a cop.”

Joe raised his eyebrows, mouth twitching as he took a bite of potatoes. “Color me impressed.”

“Hush. Just getting started. Okay...cop, detective in major crimes, which among other things means you’re smart and not scared of the dirty stuff.” Cisco studied him. “Have you been in major crimes from the beginning?”

Joe nodded, pleased he was asking and not just trying to pretend he knew everything. “Soon as I made detective, yeah. I lucked into a few high-profile arrests when I was wearing a uniform, that helped.”

“You still have that uniform?” Cisco wagged his eyebrows, but went on without making him answer. “Okay, so good at your job, that one’s a no-brainer. What else? You raised two kids on your own, that’s pretty badass. And they’re amazing people, which says a lot.”

Joe shrugged, but smiled uncontrollably. He always did like the idea that the people Iris and Barry had become reflected on him as a person. That was an ego-booster right there. Soon enough he’d be able to see his influence in Wally, too, he hoped. He was already fiercely proud of him, more than he’d earned the right to be.

He dug into his steak, feeling more at ease as Cisco went on.

“You never formally adopted Barry.” Cisco thought that over, brow furrowed. “He says you two never talked about adopting because it would’ve been like admitting his dad was gonna be in jail forever. But you thought Henry really _was_ guilty back then, so all I can figure is that you held off to spare Barry and his feelings. Considering what a hassle it must be to deal with legal stuff involving a child that’s not legally yours, that was a huge thing to decide just to make things a little better for a hurt kid. And I think boyfriend-me is already a little endeared and worried about the way you like to make things hard on yourself if it makes anything easier for anyone else.”

He paused to take a drink and eyed Joe, brow furrowed. “So far so good?”

Joe just shrugged. There were a lot of factors in the decisions he made about Barry as a kid, but Cisco wasn’t far off the mark.

It pained him now to think about Henry, and how many years he had wasted thinking that he really was guilty of Nora’s murder. It pained him even more to think of how cautious he’d been with Barry’s claims. How he sent Barry to therapists year after year, hoping that the story of some man in lightning would fade back like a dream. He had walked a fine line between not wanting to dash Barry’s hopes about his dad’s innocence but not wanting to encourage what he thought were fantasies.

For all Joe considered himself a decent father, it was amazing that Barry had grown up as level-headed as he was. Joe had to remind himself often that even if he had failed Barry in terms of Henry and what happened that night, he had succeeded most everywhere else.

Cisco speared a piece of fish and pointed it at him. “So. Iris. She’s a reporter now, though she was majoring in psychology if that work she hauled to the labs back in the day was any indication. She’s smart like her old man. Definitely as stubborn. She found out about Barry being the Flash on her own, despite…”

Joe winced.

Cisco nodded and waved the rest of that sentence away. “She takes after you in a lot of ways. She lost Eddie during the singularity, which was hard for both of you. But she stays out there writing about metas all the same, just like you stay out there chasing them down.” He blinked suddenly across the table at Joe. “Also, for some reason I used to think her mom was dead? I don’t know where I heard it but I could have sworn. But then there was Wally, so...”

Joe reached for the water glass sitting in front of him. “Francine is a long story. I don’t know if you’d know that much about it yet.”

Cisco’s head tilted a little bit, but he shrugged. “Fair enough. Though I gotta admit that might be one of the things that chafes at me a little bit. I’m a curious dude.”

“Which would qualify as something I already know about you,” Joe answered, amused. “But no matter how long we’ve supposedly been together, we’re still allowed our secrets.”

Cisco smiled at that, grabbing his own glass of soda and lofting it as if in toast. “Here’s to keeping secrets, though we both should know better.”

Joe returned the smile and clinked his glass obediently.

“So, what else? You don’t have any family besides Iris and Wally, at least nobody who lives close enough to matter, otherwise you and her wouldn’t have been alone every time you came to STAR. I know her and Barry and Wally are the most important things in your life. I know you’re not above lying to them if you think it’ll spare them a moment of hurt feelings.” He studied Joe for a moment, but gave no indication of how he felt about that.  

Joe shrugged. Secrets.

Cisco’s dark, curious gaze caught on Joe’s hand and he nodded at it. “You wear a wedding ring. Which I guess is part of that long story? But you would’ve worn it when we got together, too.”

Joe hesitated, glancing down at his hand and resisting the urge to rub fingers over the ring he’d worn for decades. This was already getting into uncomfortably private territory.

Cisco didn’t make him answer, though. He pushed his mostly empty plate away and sighed. “And I suppose I would have understood it as being part of that long story, and I wouldn’t have worried about it because you're not the kind of man who'd cheat.”

Joe looked back at him, and flashed a small, grateful smile.

Cisco returned it. “But you wearing it means you aren’t exactly eager to date a lot. I’m sure I would have been pretty flattered.”

Joe nodded. “You would have been the end of a very long dry spell. Which is one of many reasons why we would have moved slowly.”

“Works for me. My life’s pretty much been one long dry spell. I’m good with slow.”

Joe offered a small, tight smile in acceptance. “Well, all in all that wasn’t a bad summation. I guess you’ve noticed--”

“Oh, you think I’m done?” Cisco scoffed, but at least when he kept going he veered away from the awkward family drama. “Come on, I’m on a roll here. What else can I think of? You’ve lost two partners on the job and you didn’t let that shake you or push you to move to a safer department, and you still go out on the front lines without hesitating. Which, frankly, is badass, because sometimes I want to retire and move to Alaska and I don’t even do all that much.”

Joe relaxed a little as he went on, though he did cluck at those words. “Please, you’re a brave kid. I’ve seen it.”

“You might want to reconsider calling me a kid so much, present circumstances being what they are.” Cisco grinned. “What else? You handled the meta stuff well enough that I know you’re a pragmatist. It took you a long time to trust us at the lab, and you were sharp enough to suspect Evil Wells of being a creep before we did, and we were with him for years. Definitely wary. I suppose that might be more a cop thing than a ‘you’ thing, though.”

Joe shrugged, sitting back and dropping his napkin over his plate. “Hard to tell the difference after all these years.”

“Fair enough. You don’t understand a word we say at that lab half the time but you still dive into the conversations until you do get it, which, I can tell you, says a whole lot.”

Joe smiled at that. “You’re even better than Barry at translating things until they make sense, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty awesome. So, what else? You own your own home, and it’s really frigging nice. Barry said you were in apartments when he first moved in with you guys, but you moved pretty soon after. Bought a house...what, because you needed more space to raise this kid who wasn’t yours?”

Joe nodded. He had been saving up for a down payment before that, because his little girl deserved a yard to play in, but Barry showing up had ramped up the timeline.

Cisco smiled faintly, but it faded. “And, last but not least, for now anyway, there’s the fact that when Barry wanted to erase every bit of that in order to have a chance to grow up with his mom, you encouraged him to do it.”

Joe frowned at his water.

That was something he still wasn’t settled about, not by a long shot. Nothing had changed when Barry went back, but everything could have. Would have, if he’d done what he set out to do. Joe wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to ask, what that would have been like. Would he have blinked one moment and suddenly known absolutely nothing about a life with Barry? Would he suddenly be best friends with the Allens, looking at Barry as nothing more than Iris’s best friend? Would Barry and Iris still have been friends after all that time?

Wasn’t worth thinking about. Made him feel anxious.

“I wasn’t nearly so selfless about it, I admit that.” Cisco cleared his throat after a moment. “Of course there’s also the superficial stuff.”

“More? Like what?”

“Well, you laugh at my jokes, you listen to old jazz CDs in your car when you’re not on duty, which means you have excellent taste in music. Barry says you sing better than him, and if you’re dating me that means karaoke night, so might as well accept that that’s happening right now. You’re not religious or I’d’ve noticed by now. Oh, and the first present that boyfriend-me would have ever bought you would have been a beanie, since you love wearing those things. In fact I need to go find a nice nerdy beanie to bring you before this all starts, so you can rep my gift-giving genius.”

“Christmas, last year.”

“Oh! Snap! The Pacman one! Damn, look at me go, being the best boyfriend ever months ahead of time. Why would I have forgotten about that? Oh, because you never wear it.”

Joe raised his hands, trying not to chuckle. “Closeted, remember?”

“That’s true. Hey, wait...” Cisco scowled at him, but it melted away easily. “Well, either way, that’s my first round on things-I-know-about-Joe. How’d I do?”

“Pretty well,” he answered easily, though even he knew that was damning with faint praise. Cisco did really, _really_ well. He was right about them sharing the same absurd life for two years, but the amount of things he’d noticed and pondered about Joe was...surprising.

Singh was right. This was going to be easy. This was going to be ridiculously simple. Cisco knew more than enough about who Joe was to fake it, and was comfortable about expressing it.

It was strange - not bad, just unexpected - that the man sitting across from him knew him so well. But even as they talked Joe realized that despite Cisco being a civilian, and ridiculously young, and a little irreverent about the whole thing...it was very possible that there wasn’t a single other person in this city who could pull this off this kind of assignment with Joe in this short a time.

 

* * *

 

 

Joe paid the check shortly afterward - a silent mea culpa for being so dead set against the idea at first - but when it came time to leave he suggested a short walk instead of going their separate ways at once.

Cisco had done his part, after all. As long as he wasn’t ridiculously bad at whatever acting was going to be involved here, he’d left Joe nothing to worry about. But this kind of assignment was a two-way deal.

“Okay,” he said once they were a little down the block from the steakhouse. “So it’s my turn to try this. What do I know about Cisco Ramon?”

Cisco just waved a hand, looking out towards the distant waterfront and the lights of STAR Labs beyond. “Just ask away, man. It’s not like you’ve been knee-deep in my family the way I’ve been in yours.”

“Excuse me,” Joe said with a raised eyebrow. “You wanna show off but don’t want to give anyone else a chance?”

“My bad. Do your worst. How much _do_ you know about me?”

“Probably not that much,” Joe answered honestly. But he thought about it a moment. “More than I should. I pulled background checks on everyone at the lab before I first brought Barry over.”

Cisco raised his eyebrows, but didn’t seem concerned. “We must’ve passed.”

“Even Wells, which goes to show how useless it was.” Joe considered him for a moment thoughtfully. “You don’t talk about a lot outside of work, do you? Work and movies.”

Cisco’s gaze dropped to the sidewalk. “You don’t actually have to do this. I know--”

“I do, actually. We have to know each other, this isn’t a one-sided deal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, so. You’re an engineer.”

“You’re right, that is super impressive.”

“Shut it. You were already a couple of years at the lab by the time Barry woke up, and you were...what, twenty-two then? So you got the job at twenty. I have no idea what kind of schooling you have to go through to get a degree in engineering, but I’m guessing you skipped a few grades. Hell, you’re an actual real-live genius, aren’t you?”

Cisco waved a hand airily. “Labels.”

“Uh huh. You don’t talk about yourself a lot. Most of what I know about your actual life outside that lab came from Barry, or that background check. You don’t talk about family, not even during the holidays, but they live right here in the city, so I figure there’s some bad blood there.”

“Not... _bad_ blood, exactly. Just.” Cisco’s smile faded. He studied Joe, eyes dark and careful. “That background check, did it…?”

“Your brother.” Joe nodded when Cisco winced. He pushed through, though: if this was an area Cisco was delicate about, it was better for Joe to know that now. “Armando. Died when you were...what, ten? It was written off as stray bullets from a gang shooting, investigation never went anywhere.”

“Kinda strange to hear it summarized so easily,” Cisco said, his eyes back on the waterfront.

“That’s the cop in me,” Joe answered gently. “You’d be surprised what kind of unspeakable horrors can be reduced to a sentence or two in shorthand. I suppose it can seem cold.”

“Nah. It’s fine. I think it would be strange to hear anyone talk about it at all, shorthand or not.”

Joe frowned but pushed on. “You haven’t told anyone at STAR, have you?”

Cisco glanced over, shoulders rising and falling vaguely.

He nodded. “When Barry told me about Snart, about you giving up Barry’s name to save your other brother…” He held up a hand when Cisco’s gaze shuttered and went wary. “When he told me that, I understood. I would have understood protecting family either way, but I knew why saving your remaining brother was particularly important to you.” He regarded Cisco. “I didn’t say anything to Barry.”

Cisco opened his mouth, then shut it again silently. He smiled weakly, but gestured for him to go on. “Let’s push right on past this subject, yeah? This will be my ‘wouldn’t have talked about it yet’ area.”

“No Francine, no Armando. Got it.”

Joe kept going after a moment, clearing his throat and shifting his tone to something brighter. “So what else? You’re right that sometimes I don’t think you take things seriously enough. I have to listen to grown-ass cops, men and women with guns and badges, using names like ‘Captain Cold’ when referring to literal murderers, and that's absurd. Then again...man tries to kill Barry, kidnaps you and Caitlin both, kills his own father, I reckon you can call him whatever the hell you want to.”

“Cheers.”

Factually he didn’t know much more about Cisco, which was alarming to realize. “I’m not even gonna pretend to understand this meta power you have.”

Cisco shot him a smile, the shadows leaving him quickly. “You know what it’s called, at least.”

“Do I?”

“Say it. Come on. Say my name, Joe.”

He laughed, glad to hear it echoed beside him. “Fine. _Vibe._ You already had me lost with the visions, but the whole Earth-2 portal thing...forget about it.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna be cocky about it. I don’t even get it, really. It’s not the power I would’ve picked for myself, I’ll say that much.”

“It’s come in handy so far.” Joe shrugged. “And you use it when someone needs you to, even when it scares you. That’s pretty damn heroic, kid.”

Cisco waved that off. “Barry’s the one that goes running after whatever it is I see, so he still gets top billing there.”

Joe didn’t argue the point. Sometimes the things Barry willingly charged into terrified the hell out of him, and he’d been a cop for more than twenty years. But Barry wasn’t the person under discussion here.

Joe was just about out of actual factual details about Cisco, so he dug a little deeper, the way Cisco had done.

“You’re about the last guy I would have pictured working in a fancy lab as an engineer,” he said, looking over at Cisco. He always looked so incredibly young to Joe, and while a lot of that was the sheer fact of his age, a lot of it had to do with how Cisco presented himself. “I bet you must’ve gotten a lot of crap for the hair and the t-shirts. I mean back when there was more than three people working at the lab.”

“Sometimes. But me looking this way bothered the hell out of Hartley Rathaway, so it was its own reward.” Cisco grinned.

Joe smiled back. “Between the science and the movie references I don’t get a lot of what you say, but I get enough. I can tell that…” He hesitated, pondering how to put his impressions into words. “I guess I always figured the STEM stuff was for one kind of person, art and creativity was for a different kind of person. From what I’ve seen in my life, that holds up ninety percent of the time. Even Barry...that kid loved to tear apart stories of the weird when he was growing up, but he always took them so literally. He’s a damn smart kid, but I wouldn’t call him _inventive._ I never saw anybody who had all this incredible imagination and this...vision, this creativity, who could then back it up with the science to actually see it happen. It’s pretty incredible, and I don’t have to understand how you work to know that it does work.”

Cisco blinked, his cheeks going a duskier shade. “I mean...the theoretical sciences are full of imagination, really. I’ve known some--”

“And you take compliments about as badly as Barry does. There’s another thing on the list.” Joe chuckled.

Cisco considered that. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“Still. I always thought of geniuses as guys like Wells. The old Wells. Well, both of them, really. Conceited, smug, too smart to bother explaining themselves to anyone. Even Caitlin tries to stick to the facts, keep herself detached, to a point. But you.” He shook his head. “I never met anybody like you before, that’s the truth.”

Cisco’s gaze was locked on the sidewalk in front of them. “Laying it on kinda thick right now, boyfriend. I mean it’s cool, because I could listen to how great I am forever, but.”

Joe snorted a laugh. “I doubt that. You look like you’re a minute from bolting. Bad at taking compliments: confirmed.”

Cisco smiled faintly. “Well. Whatever. I mean, looks like we’re about even in the knowing-stuff department, so.”

The wasn’t quite true, but Cisco had a point earlier about how much of Joe’s actual life and family were involved with STAR. The reverse was definitely not true, so maybe Joe couldn’t be judged too harshly for not knowing more.

Besides, the kid was a genius. He was bound to have put together more than Joe had. The things that mattered to Joe the most - that he trusted Cisco, that he valued his opinion, that he put Barry’s safety in his hands - those weren’t things that fit in a conversation like this.

Though now that he was considering it, those things right there would have been important reasons for why he would have gotten into a doubtlessly ill-advised relationship with someone like Cisco. That trust and admiration would be a good eighty percent of it.

“So.” Cisco cleared his throat. “What else is there to plan out?”

Joe added another mental note to his dissection of Cisco Ramon: doesn’t like silence. “We could work out a few stories, birthday moments or memorable dates, if we need to. But since we really have been living in each other’s pockets for two years now, I think we can stick as close to the truth as possible.”

“So I can complain about my thoughtful Christmas beanie never being worn?”

Joe laughed, but glanced over, imagining what a happily-involved Joe West would counter that  with. “And I can complain about never managing to get you to dress like a grown-up, no matter where I take you.”

“Ha! That’s valid. Just never claim to have given me a tie as a gift in your struggle to mature me. I would have been mean about it. Slow suffocation is not a present, Joseph.”

“Sounds like a nice direct quote. I’ll remember that.” Joe nudged him and slowed. “Come on, it’s cold out here.”

They turned and started the slow way back to the restaurant and their cars.

It wasn’t incredibly cold, really. It was actually a nice night, wind only coming up from the waterfront now and then to make him feel glad he’d worn a jacket. Empty sidewalks, stars overhead. A good night for a stroll for a couple of guys who probably couldn’t find a lot of alone time together.

If he thought their suspect would have been watching them this early, Joe might have moved in closer. Might have offered Cisco his jacket, or taken his hand. It felt like it might be easy to do. Certainly their long conversation had been easy enough, despite them both navigating some uncomfortable areas.

Then again, if meeting at the restaurant had been a way to practice being together in public…

He cleared his throat, not looking to the side. “So. What’s your attitude towards PDAs?”

Cisco looked over. Joe could feel his eyes.

“Um.” He swallowed audibly. “Well. Kinda goes against the whole ‘closet’ part, doesn’t it?”

“For now.” Joe glanced down between them. “But closet or not, the Joe West who’s in a long-term relationship doesn’t like letting quiet walks like this go to waste.”

He drew in a breath, and slipped his hand out to catch Cisco’s.

Cisco was tense for a few seconds, maybe just caught off guard, but then he relaxed entirely. His fingers threaded through Joe’s, and when Joe looked over at him he had a small smile on his face.

“We can really do this, can’t we?” Cisco asked after a minute.

“Much as I protested back in Singh’s office...yeah. Yeah, I think we’re gonna be fine.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Joe got home Wally was still out, but Iris was in the living room on her laptop.

She didn’t even look up when he came in. “Laundry’s almost done, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Barry?”

“Went to bed.” She didn’t tense, didn’t sound different.

Joe wondered again, idly, what secrets his kids were keeping from him. If any. Maybe they really were just working a lot more.

Maybe he had no right to pry into her secrets either way.

Damn it.

Just tell her, Cisco had said. Like it was as easy as anything, and not a huge breach in protocol. _One person wouldn’t be so bad, right?_

Joe hung his jacket up, made sure his keys were safe in the pocket, and sighed when he realized that he was already letting Cisco’s cavalier attitude affect him. That when it came to this particular subject, he _wanted_ to let it affect him.

He moved around the couch and sat.

And he told her.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride from the restaurant passed in a blur of distracted thoughts, and when he parked Cisco blinked out the windshield at the sprawling, mostly-dark campus of STAR Labs.

No surprise there, really. It was even odds he’d find his way to his actual apartment these days. There was always work to do, even without a crisis in the air.

Especially, even. A crisis gave everything urgency and direction, but he preferred nights without any mass-murderers breathing down his neck. When he could work on his tech and sketch out new ideas without feeling guilty about what he wasn’t doing.

Besides, he needed something to occupy his mind. Dinner had been...a lot. Joe taking his hand and walking with him had been even more than a lot.

He made it through the security doors and turned off the motion alarms set up inside, and made his slow way down through the cortex to his own workroom, and even after all that routine movement to calm himself down his thoughts were still a disaster.

He indulged himself enough to throw himself down in his chair with all the melodrama he was craving.

“God, this is such a _bad idea_.”

None of the inanimate objects around him spontaneously develop sentience enough to address his comment, so he heaved a huge sigh and looked around for what in-progress work he had lying around to distract him.

There was some commission stuff for Team Arrow, but nothing particularly urgent. A few long-term projects of his own needed some attention. He was particularly excited about a design addition to Barry’s headpiece that would give him as many options for adaptation as the insignia on his chest did.

But it wasn’t calling to him. Nothing was.

He didn’t _want_ to stop thinking about dinner. He had to, he knew that. It was nothing. Dinner. A talk. Plans. Work stuff.

He wanted to call Kendra. He wanted to talk to _somebody_ about this, about Joe’s hand holding his, and the difference between how closed-off Joe looked when he got there and how relaxed he was when he left. How sure he was that this would work, that Cisco could do his part. How it felt to realize Joe had that kind of confidence in him.

It didn’t take him more than a few minutes of idly fiddling with tools before Cisco gave up. He left his workroom behind, making his way back through the cortex and down a couple of stretches of corridor until he reached a familiar doorway.

Harry and Jesse were happily back on Earth-2 (happy last time he checked, anyway, and he peeked in on them a lot), but their room hadn’t been touched. Their personal things were all gone, but it was still a much nicer option for sleeping than passing out in his chair or sprawled over a table, which had been Cisco’s go-to for nights like this often in the past.

He was used to quiet, used to late nights on his own, work he couldn’t consult anyone on. This was no different from that.

Except for the warmth of his hand as he stared up into the darkness, sprawled on a nicely-padded cot with actual pillows - bless Jesse Wells - waiting for his mind to shut up enough that he might actually start to feel drowsy.

Maybe it wasn’t even about Joe, he thought as he lay there, listening to the absolute silence and trying not to remember warm fingers slid through his.

Maybe, as he had been for so frigging much of his life, he was just lonely.

 

* * *

 

 

Iris laughed.

Hard.

“Cisco.” She managed to gasp the name out after a disturbingly long laughing jag. “Cisco Ramon. STAR Labs’ Cisco Ramon.”

Joe sighed and gestured for her to keep going, get it all out. He couldn’t help a small smile, because damn but he loved to see his baby girl laughing. Even if it was at his expense.

“He was the best of bad options.”

“No, I mean…” She peered at him, and burst out laughing again.

Joe chuckled, sitting back on the couch and waiting.

“Okay, sorry, hang on.” Iris collected herself, closed her laptop, and twisted on the couch to face him. “So what exactly does this involve?”

“Everyone needs to believe we’re an item, and have been for some time. Once people know, then we just have to...act like it, until the right person notices and takes offense.”

Her grin faded a little. “Act like it?”

Joe shrugged. “You’re going to see him more outside the lab, at least once we’re discovered. We’re going to need to look like a happily devoted couple who no longer has to keep themselves secret, so he’ll be around.”

“When you say ‘everyone’ needs to believe it…”

“I mean _everyone_. The folks at STAR, the department. Barry, Wally. Cisco’s family, if they come around at any point. It has to seem absolutely real, which means we need honest reactions from all sides. I have no idea how close our perp actually is, but I have to assume he’s around every damn day, noticing everything.”

She considered that, brow furrowed. “Should you be telling me about this?”

Joe looked over, meeting her eyes. “According to the assignment? No.” He saw the question in her eyes and smiled faintly. “I don’t want to lie to you, baby. Not anymore. Not even when it’s the job.”

Iris blinked suddenly soft eyes, and her mouth twitched up just a bit. “Dad...” She reached out and lay her hand on his arm, light, for just a moment. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“The only time we can be open about this being an assignment, even in conversation, is just like this: somewhere private and alone, with curtains drawn. There’s no telling when eyes might be on me anywhere else. Outside of that, your reaction is up to you. Seem as surprised as everyone else, act however you think you would.”

“If you two were really dating, would I be finding out with everyone else?”

He sat back, thinking that over. His determination to be honest with her at all costs, that was real. He’d hesitated over this only because it was work, because this secret wasn’t actually his alone. But if it _was_ his…

“You’d already know,” he said, confident enough to look back at meet her eyes as he said it.

Her eyebrows rose. She returned his look, steady, and smiled after a moment. “So I should already know, don’t you think?”

“Me being honest with you shouldn’t mean you having to lie to everyone else.”

“Oh, come on. It’s for your job. It’s like being undercover.” Her smile grew. “Besides, you’ll probably need my help with Barry. He’s gonna have trouble swallowing this.”

“I don’t want you to have to…”

“Dad. I know the difference between lying and playing a role. Besides…” She made a face and sat back.

He wondered what she was thinking about. The long-term secret that Joe and Barry had both been keeping from her for the better part of a year, before she found out the truth on her own? All the dozens of little lies that were involved in keeping that secret?

Iris was part of it now. Hell, she was at STAR more than Joe was these days. But maybe she hadn’t quite forgiven them as easily as it seemed she had. Understanding why a lie was told didn’t automatically bring forgiveness for that lie.

Joe telling her the truth about this assignment, when he didn’t even consider telling Barry or Wally...that was a form of penance. She probably saw that. But Barry...maybe he hadn’t made any kind of moves like that. Maybe he hadn’t taken the steps he should have to make _sure_ she knew he regretted what he’d done.

Joe wasn’t about to get involved in that. He’d toed his way into their business back when Barry had been so depressed about Iris and Eddie, and that had ended up messy and complicated enough. He had no right telling Barry how to fix things with Iris, or vice versa. They’d work it out.

If keeping this secret for Joe evened the score a little, even just in Iris’s mind, then that was her business.

“Cisco thought that might help,” he said finally. “Having someone who could claim to have known already. Help with Barry and our friends, at least, not with the assignment itself. I don’t want you getting involved with that.”

Her smile returned and she turned to him again. “Okay, good. Settled.”

He gave her a brief description of the facts they had settled on: dating since the singularity, but she probably wouldn’t have found out until it became more settled. Especially considering what she’d been going through at the time. He didn’t say that part out loud, but he was sure she understood.

Her smile only faded, though, when he talked about what it would have involved. How he and Cisco would have been sneaking moments at every chance for months, and once this got out to everyone they’d be moving out into the open.

“Dad.” She frowned, regarding him. “Don’t get me wrong, the Iris in this scenario is genuinely happy about this. Even if Cisco Ramon isn’t necessarily who she would have picked out for you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “But?”

“But. The reason she’s so happy is because you haven’t had a whole lot of relationships since mom…” She sighed and waved a hand, a neatly effective gesture to slice through the complicated mess that Francine and Joe West had been. “Since mom.”

He nodded.

“So what you’re talking about here, what you and Cisco are doing...are you going to be okay, doing that?”

“What do you mean?” He thought he understood a moment later, though. “Iris. I, uh. This wouldn’t be my first time. With another man. My first time faking it, of course, but…”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“It was before your mom.” Everything was before Francine, it felt like.

“That’s...good. To know. So. You’re...”

“Bisexual.” He smiled faintly. “If non-practicing.”

She stared at him for a moment, like she was reconsidering a few things about him. But she was still relaxed.

As coming-out moments went, it felt like a pretty good one.

She cleared her throat after a moment. “Okay. Noted. And now my future potential-dad-date pool is bigger, so yay. But that isn’t what I meant when I asked if you were gonna be okay.”

“Then what did you…?”

“Dad. You want anyone who looks twice to know that you two are together. You’re going to be spending all this time together, both alone and in public. Dating, essentially. That...basically _is_ a relationship. Maybe not the one people think it is, but more of one than you’ve had in a long, long time.”

He felt some measure of surprise at that, but considered the words.

This assignment didn’t mean inviting a new person into his life, since Cisco was already a big part of his life. He was often there at the station, at the lab, hanging out with Barry after hours. Hell, he’d even been a part of holiday gatherings for two years now.

Joe and Cisco had just established, an hour ago, that they knew each other pretty damn well already. So Joe would just be hanging out with Cisco a lot more often, and a little... _closer_ , with a different kind of vibe than the one they already had. Since they got along well either way, he wasn’t particularly worried about it.

If there was one thing he was clear about, it was the line between his life and work. He’d been a cop for too damn long to get flustered at the idea of dating someone he didn’t love, or mistaking it for something that it wasn’t.

“I’ll be fine, baby.” He pushed off the couch, chuckling. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with his inevitable ‘stepdad’ jokes.”

“Oh, god.” She rolled her eyes, but bubbled over with fresh laughter. “Cisco Ramon.”

Joe sighed. Cisco Ramon. He headed for the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water to take upstairs. But he paused in the doorway, thinking about dinner, about everything he hadn’t realized that he knew about Cisco.

“You remember that tea? At the lab, when Barry was still in his coma?” he asked, looking back at her.

Iris blinked, but her expression cleared a moment later. “Yeah. I do. I haven’t thought about that in a while.” She turned a softer smile on him. “You could definitely do worse, dad.”

 

* * *

 

 

There were two parts to this assignment that Joe was taking on. One was the unofficial part, the relationship. Cisco. That was as settled as it was going to get, ready to go when it was needed.

The other part was the caseload.

Detective Whitman had been in Robbery, not Major Crimes. Some of his cases had to be spread out to the other detectives in his department. But a few of them were severe enough that they could be justified coming to Joe’s desk.

Singh and Joe were assuming that the motivation behind Whitman’s attack had been exactly what it appeared to be, but as long as there was that five percent chance the hate crime aspect was a diversion Joe wasn’t going to ignore it. If it _was_ a diversion, odds were that Whitman was getting too close to someone who didn’t want to be stopped, so it followed that the answer would be in his files.

A cursory look through the files didn’t show him anything promising. Most robbery cases tended to have either a suspect from the start - someone known to the victim and identified up front - or else unless they lucked into a witness or fingerprints then there was simply no suspect at all. Robbery was a frustrating mix of running prints that turned out to belong to innocent people, talking to witnesses who saw absolutely nothing of use, and alerting pawnshops and running searches on Craigslist in case the perp tried to offload something he’d stolen that was fairly unique.

Robbery didn’t have the kind of high priority feel Major Crimes did. Whitman had been waiting on fingerprint search requests that were a few weeks old now, and some warrant requests still out for security tapes near victimized locations.

It had to be frustrating, finding so little and waiting so long.  Robbery was definitely a longer game than Major Crimes, where things were either solved fast or went so cold so quickly that they were replaced by newer cases before they could start to feel old.

Joe actually felt a twinge of guilt looking at some of the dates of Whitman’s requests. It probably didn’t help that Major Crimes and metahumans took up so much of their resident CSI’s time. He didn’t feel _too_ guilty, because what took up Barry’s time usually involved murder. But he made a mental note to ask Barry to dedicate a few slow hours to clearing up some of those lower priority backlogs.

Still, his overall impression was that none of the cases he was now working had any real surprises to them, at least nothing bad enough to justify Whitman being stalked for weeks and then battered into slight brain damage.

Singh was paying close attention to the other cases, the ones Robbery had held onto, but since those were even less severe than the ones Joe had, he wasn’t expecting much to come of it.

It was a frustrating start to the morning, just beginning the process of going through those cases.

It only promised to get worse as Singh’s door flew open mid-morning and he stuck his face out. “West! In here, now!”

He slammed the door hard enough to make half the room jump, and a lot of sympathetic glances turn Joe’s way.

Joe frowned, shutting the file on his desk and marching to the office.

“Shut the door,” Singh barked from behind his desk. “And pretend you’re getting dressed down. I’m taking my stress out on you, if anyone’s watching.”

Joe held up his hands instantly, reading as defensive. “What’s going on?”

Singh glared at him, jabbing the air with an angry finger. “How much more prep time are you and Ramon going to need?”

“Damn it. You got another letter.”

“Still no photos, not yet, but they mentioned Rob by name. And this is officially pissing me off.”

“Hell.” Joe turned his back on the desk to drop down on the couch and out of eyesight of anyone not standing right at the window. “Good news is we’re ready, more or less. We got most of the facts hammered out last night. As long as the kid doesn’t freeze up, we’re a go.”

“Good. I’m getting Rob out of town either way, I’ve got the time booked. We’ll leave this weekend.”

Joe nodded. “Tonight. Dinner. You and Rob, me and Cisco. Whoever’s watching you will see us, maybe we can get this thing moving.”

“Yeah. Contact Ramon.” Singh glared at him, but his voice was soft. “I can’t handle this coming to my house, Joe. I can handle evil metahumans and superpowered vigilantes and holes opening in the sky, whatever, but…”

Joe stood, crossing to the desk. “There’s not a person on this job who doesn’t understand that, David. We’ll figure this out.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So the idea is to pick up heat signatures in the air and display them in 3-D.”

Caitlin blinked at the monitor, and then at Cisco.

He sighed. “This is why I miss Harry. Okay, look, Barry is so fast these days that when he gets to the scene of a crime or whatever, everything is basically frozen in his perspective, right?”

“Right.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t think you won’t pay for that Harry comment. It’s not like I can talk to _you_ about the differing metabolization rates of specific enzymes in Barry’s body, is it?”

He laughed. “My bad.”

“Mmm hmm.” But her scowl vanished and she gestured at the monitors. “But I like you sometimes, so please continue.”

“You love me always and you know it. Okay, so. He runs in, there’s basically this frozen tableau of statue-people around him. And sometimes, when the scene is really chaotic, he has to unfreeze things and let them play out a little to figure out exactly what’s happening. It’s totally the uncertainty principle in motion - Barry can see where things _are_ , but not always where they’re _going_.”

“Like at the bank a couple weeks back where he didn’t see a bullet hanging in the air so he didn’t stop it.”

“Right!” Luckily it had planted itself into a wall, but Barry had been a little shaken by the idea that someone could have died because he couldn’t instantly spot an inch of lead hanging frozen in the air in a crowded room that he whooshed his way into.

“That was what gave me the idea. So what this display does is pick up...thermal trails, basically. It’ll show residuals of heat. A bullet would leave a pretty long trail. People will leave a shorter one, but enough that he’ll be able to judge momentum. So he can see when he first gets there who’s punching who, and who fired a gun, that kind of thing.”  

“Nice.” She smiled and scooted back from the desk. “It’s kind of great, isn’t it? That we have some breathing room to work on these projects that aren’t life-or-death.”

“Amen,” he said, sliding his chair back in to where she’d been blocking his keyboard.

This was why he loved the calm between the storms, why he ended up passing out at the lab so often even when there wasn’t an emergency to keep him there. Caitlin may not have been a mechanical engineer or a physicist, but she understood perfectly why he loved his side projects even more than the last-minute miracle inventions that danger forced him to create.

He glanced her way as she went back to her own desk. “So what about you? You’ve been pretty busy.”

His phone beeped. He grabbed it off the desk and smiled when he saw Joe’s name on the display. He looked over at Caitlin as he got to his feet. “Hold that thought, I’m gonna...go take this.”

She raised her eyebrows, but gestured him on.

“Hey.” He moved around the desk and towards the doors that led out of the cortex. “What’s up?”

“Got plans for dinner?”

“Twice in a row? I like where this relationship is going.”

His smile died down, though, as Joe explained the situation. Captain Singh and Rob had gotten another threat from their bad guy, and Singh was pushing to leave town sooner rather than later.

He agreed to the dinner no problem, and let Joe get back to work.

When he moved back through into the cortex Caitlin watched him with undisguised curiosity.

“Private phone calls now?” she asked, voice light with interest.

Cisco made a face at her. “I get private phone calls all the time, I’ll have you know. I’m _incredibly_ popular. Just...I’m usually alone when they come in.”

“Uh huh.” She turned her chair to follow him as he moved in. “So, _secretive_ private phone calls, I see.”

It didn’t fail to occur to him that this fit with the whole act he was about to start trying to pull off, so he just smiled and shrugged and dropped back into his chair.

“You never told me what you’re working on.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but let it go. “I’m researching studies about electrical pulses in the brain leading to physical symptomatology, and ways the side effects might be combated.”

He indulged her with a properly blank look. “Sure.”

“I’m trying to find a way to keep your vibes from giving you headaches.”

Cisco blinked. He turned to face her completely.

She flashed a small smile and turned back to her work.

He pushed out of his chair again and moved around to the station she’d been working at for days. “You’re...for _me_?”

“Harry left a whole database of information about the waves your brain sends out when you vibe. He collected most of it when you were trying to pull Barry out of the speedforce. He didn’t need it at the time, but it tells me a lot about the actual areas of the brain your vibes affect and what the power must be doing in order to cause physical effects.”

He bent to look at the screens, the endless lines of data collection in the form of rows of numbers and dozens of charts of spiked lines that he couldn’t begin to interpret. “This is for _me_?” he asked again, surprised.

She turned a warm smile to him. “Barry’s not the only hero on the team anymore, is he, Vibe?”

He gaped at her.

Something in his expression made her smile shrink, and she reached out and hooked a finger on his sleeve. “You were there for me after Jay. After I thought he died, and then after he kidnapped me. When I thought I was broken by it all. I haven’t forgotten that, Cisco.”

He broke into a small smile, still feeling a little dazed. “Wow. Thank you.”

“Gonna tell me about that phone call now?”

He laughed. “Nope. Gonna hug you, though.”

She made a sound like she was disappointed, but she stood up and hugged him right back. Though typically for her she drew back after just a few seconds, her smile wide.

“I like the idea that your powers are something I can actually be some help with. It feels right, things coming back to you and me.”

Cisco beamed at her. “Hell yeah.”

After the accelerator accident Caitlin and Wells had been his entire life. For months they had mourned for the people they lost, weathered the bad press and the government inspections, tended to Barry once he got there. They figured out how to navigate their new lives together.

Cisco and Caitlin probably had the least in common of any two people who worked at STAR back when it was fully operational. Even their working styles were different. But they’d figured out under duress how to fit their unmatched styles together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

The work was still most of what they had in common. Aside from the occasional after-work drinks they didn’t spend much time together outside the lab. When Cisco called Barry his best friend, he didn’t think he was being unfair to Caitlin. What they had was definitely more of a working relationship.

But it was a damn good one, and it had survived a lot. And this work, the kind that they did, the extremes they worked under so often, was a really intimate thing to share with someone.

Besides, Evil Wells was long gone. The original trio was down to two. Other people came and went, but when it came down to it, Cisco and Caitlin _were_ STAR.

He opened his mouth to express whatever of those thoughts he could without her getting so awkward she made him stop, but back on the counter his phone beeped again. He rolled his eyes, but shot her a grin as he went to go get it.

“I’m absolutely listening in this time,” she called after him.

But he flashed her the display once he saw it, dropping in his chair with a sigh. “Dante’s texting. You can have it if you want.”

“Oh.” She made one of those faces she made when she didn’t want to get involved with potential discomfort. “Nah, all yours.”

“Thanks.”

He scanned through the texts Dante had sent, and couldn’t help a faint laugh when he realized something: one of the advantages of the strange undercover thing he found himself involved in had suddenly become apparent even before the assignment technically started.

_ >So this new neighbor came over and said he heard mom made the best burgers on the block. _

_ >Now she’s worried she’s losing touch with her roots or some frigging thing. _

_ >So she’s making asopao and pineapple flan tonight, and she told me to invite you. _

Cisco rolled his eyes with fondness he couldn’t quite forget he felt, remembering how their mom had refused to make anything but Puerto Rican food for like the first ten years of his life.

After Armando died she stopped caring so much.

He sent off a quick reply.

_You mean you got hit with a guilt trip and told her to invite me and she didn’t argue. < _

_ >...tomato tomahto. You coming? _

Cisco smiled as he thumbed in his answer. A real live excuse to get out of these horrible, uncomfortable family dinner invites. He was going to savor it.

_Sorry, man, I have a date. Save me some flan tho. < _

_ >A what now? An actual date, with an actual person? _

_That is the thing I have, yes. < _

The phone rang out after just a second with the Imperial March that signified one of his relatives was calling.

Cisco sighed but answered after a moment, already kind of smiling to himself. “I mean it’s not that shocking.”

“To you, maybe. You haven’t told me about any dates since you were in high school.”

“Dante, we’ve only been talking about _anything_ for like two months now. And do I need to remind you that before that, the last person I ever talked to you about was…”

“Yeah, yeah. Melinda. You need to learn to let things go.”

Cisco rolled his eyes, sighing audibly into the phone. “Well, since you don’t want anything, I’m gonna hang up.”

“Come on, let me make up for the last few years. Tell big brother all about the new girlfriend.”

Damn it. It was hard to be mad at Dante when he was actually trying to make this work.

He spoke carefully, aware of Caitlin’s eyes on him. “Here’s the only thing you need to know: you are never gonna steal this one away from me.”

“Ooh, a challenge.”

“And it’s not new. It’s just...on the low.”

“Ahh. She’s ugly, isn’t she? I get it, I’ve been there. She can cook, though, right?”

Cisco sighed. “I have no idea why you’re mom’s favorite.”

“Was that too much? Most women find a certain amount of misogyny to be charming, you know. That whole bad boy thing.”

“Is that how most women feel? Really? You know, this might be why you’re the one eating at home and I’m the one going on an actual date.”

“Enjoy it, mijito. First and last time.”

“Good _bye,_ Dante.” Cisco rolled his eyes and hung up his phone, but as he set it down he smiled again faintly.

His brother was a disaster, his family was weird, and things were still beyond awkward, but. That hadn’t been horrible. It helped that he was starting to be able to identify Dante’s smarmy sense of humor. His jokes were gross, but they _were_ jokes.

“A date, huh?”

He wheeled around. Shit. He’d lost track of her. “Oh, uh. Nah. That was just…”

Caitlin’s eyebrows rose.

He gestured aimlessly. “Look, the fam invites me over, I say what I have to say to get out of it. We’ve been through this before. I’ve made you call my mom with medical excuses before.”

“That’s true.” She kept her eyes on him, though, like she didn’t believe it this time.

He jumped out of his seat, cramming his phone in his pocket. “Welp, I better go work on the board for this new display for Barry.”

“Do you have any idea how bad a liar you are?” she called after him.

He didn’t stop, just stuck his tongue out at her as he left the cortex in a hurry.

Okay, yeah, less than subtle. He really was bad at it. But hey, that was another thing that would play well once she found out about him and Joe. As deceptions went, it was a subtle one.

Subtle as he got, anyway.

Now if _Dante_ found out about Cisco and Joe and their ‘relationship’, he couldn’t predict in the slightest how he’d react.

His folks...well, they tended to be super Catholic in general. They had accepted him being bisexual about as well as they ‘accepted’ most anything else about him. The few times Cisco had openly dated a guy in high school his ma had said a lot of prayers in awkwardly public spaces, and his dad looked at him harder than he already did and talked to him less. But he hadn’t been thrown out or threatened or anything.

He couldn’t tell if they thought it was just a phase or what, some kind of rebellion he was staging, but he wasn’t surprised that they didn’t get really heated up about it either way. They’d written Cisco off pretty young.

But Dante. Dante had been a shit back in high school about basically everything, including the occasional guy Cisco had gone out with. Now that he was actually trying to be nice, Cisco wasn’t sure how he’d react. It was...worrying, a little. Their new relationship wasn’t exactly strong, but Cisco didn’t want to lose it.

He couldn’t help but think about Joe at dinner the night before. He had already known about Armando, so he knew about the entire beginning of Cisco’s split from his family, though he probably didn’t realize it. Joe had known since the beginning, and never said anything. Not even to Barry.

Cisco wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. The idea of him doing a background check didn’t surprise him, but Armando...he was Cisco’s to keep or to talk about. And for basically every day of his life since it had happened, Cisco had chosen to keep it. It was one of the few secrets he had left. He’d kept it from Caitlin, even from the old Wells, who had often tried to get him to talk about his family problems.

God only knew what kind of reason Evil-Wells had for that curiosity, but given how things had turned out Cisco was glad he resisted the urge to confess to the man he thought supported him so entirely.

And he wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he’d almost wanted to talk to Joe about it.

Another unfortunate side effect of having a childish crush on the man, no doubt. Or maybe it was Joe himself, that whole understanding-cop aura he had. Evil-Wells had come and gone, like Evil-Jay after him, and Harry-the-not-evil-but-still-kinda-dickish. Joe had stayed through all that, sturdy and caring and not evil in the slightest.

None of which meant Cisco had to dump his family crap on the guy’s shoulders. Joe had enough kids to worry about, and he needed Cisco to be with him in this whole thing, not leaning on him for everything.

Besides, Cisco had other things to worry about right then. Apparently he had himself a date that night.

 

* * *

 

 

“I see you dressed up.”

Cisco grinned as he approached, and Joe couldn’t help smiling back. The kid had thrown a black blazer over the t-shirt he’d no-doubt been wearing at the lab all day, and that was it. Still in blue jeans and sneakers.

“I mean, yeah, I did. My socks match and everything.”

Joe was more than aware of the wide open streets around them, the sidewalks, the overhangs and bushes and cars parked along the streets. A thousand places where someone could have been hiding and watching. He made sure to meet Cisco a little after Singh and Rob already arrived, in hopes that their stalker would be parked out there and would recognize Joe and his ‘date’.

But then Joe and his date were still supposed to be closeted, and they were in public. There was a line to be towed there to sell the story that they were trying to tell.

So Joe stuck out a hand as Cisco reached him, for a shake. Casual meeting between work friends.

Cisco’s eyebrows came up, but he shook Joe’s hand. And neither of them let go when they should have. Just a few extra seconds of touch, of holding, until Joe felt like the point was made.

He regarded Cisco as he finally let his hand fall away. “They’re already inside and waiting. They both know exactly what’s going on here, but along with hopefully putting us on this guy’s radar this is also a test for us.”

Cisco regarded him, expression warm and easy. Same as always, really, but Joe saw how it could work for them if anyone was paying close attention. “So the happy couple act starts now?”

Joe nodded, reaching out and straightening the collar of his blazer needlessly. “Conversation, attitude, everything. It’s a trial run with the only two people we can have one with. Which, for the sake of the act, means the only two people who already know we’re together.” He hesitated, then went ahead and confessed his sin to the only guy he was going to admit this to: “Well, two of the three people.”

“Got it. And I’m glad you told her.” Cisco nodded once, still smiling up at Joe. But his eyes darted away suddenly, glancing around them on the sidewalk. He stepped back a half-step, as if just remembering that other people existed.

Not bad.

Joe nodded towards the door, bringing an arm to the small of Cisco’s back to escort him in. Nothing to see here, folks, just a pal leading another pal into a nice dinner with friends.

David and Rob were sitting side by side by the large picture window along the side of the restaurant. Deliberate. Everything about this was deliberate, even the way Joe kept his arm at Cisco’s back until they reached the table.

Cisco waved at the waiting men, and Joe slipped around him to sit closer to the glass. Familiar cop face needed to be nearer to prying eyes.

“Hey, guys!” Cisco grinned across the table as he sat down beside Joe. “Rob, it’s been _hours_ since we talked last.”

Rob glanced at David as if a little unsure about his own cues, but smiled back after a stutter of a pause. “I’m going to blame my phone battery dying instead of the fact that you were about twenty texts into defending the Tron sequel that I promise you I just don’t care about.”

“So rude.” Cisco was smiling, though.

David seemed genuinely disconcerted as he looked between them. “Okay, wait a minute. Exactly how often do you two talk?”

“Between Facebook and texts?” Rob shrugged, gesturing to encompass the expansiveness of their contact.

“How did that even start, anyway?”

Cisco sent Joe a smile, a little smug, like he could already see the two civilians had surprised the two cops. “Rob showed up at the station back when I was finishing up with the Iron Heights project. He was dropping off food for the captain, I was finishing up my paperwork for the consultant job. And he had chocolate.” He grinned. “I ambushed him.”

Rob laughed in memory. “I nearly chased him away by telling him how healthy everything was.”

“Gluten free cake. Gluten free _cake_ ,” Cisco repeated, looking at Joe imploringly. “What the hell.”

“Flourless chocolate cake, okay, the best thing you’ll ever eat, Celiac or not.”

“He speaks truth. So I told him he had to tell me how to make it, and.” Cisco shrugged. “We’re both delightful dudes, it took off from there.”

“I’m disturbed right now,” David said to Joe.

Cisco grinned. “If it helps, he refuses to divulge any information about your personal life. And I ask.”

“He asks,” Rob confirmed with a broad smile.

David shot Cisco a frown, but rolled his eyes and sat back. “Stick to trading recipes from now on, Mr. Ramon."

Cisco grinned, utterly unapologetic.

Rob leaned in to Cisco, lowering his voice. "That's actually not a bad idea, if your cop eats as badly as mine does regularly. Sneaking them health food's about the only way we can keep them alive."

Joe shot Cisco a raised eyebrow.

Cisco blinked, glancing over. He smiled after a moment, though, and waved a hand in the air. "It's totally the other way around, actually. Joe's a cook, dude eats more healthy than any adult man I've ever met before. I mean he’s got a fetish for delivery pizza, but that’s about it. I'm the one who’s probably rotting inside from pure sugar overload."

"Much as I try to change that," Joe put in, sending Cisco a pleased look.

It was true, after all, and one of those benefits to them having known each other for so long already. A little phrasing change and something that they’d both talked about as friends easily fit into the context of an actual relationship.

Cisco smiled sunnily. "You're just jealous I'm still young enough to get away with it."

Joe scoffed. "And as much as I'd love to get into that right now, I think we need to take a break and run to the restroom to make sure your diaper's still clean."

"Oh! Old man got jokes!" Cisco grinned over at Rob, who was obviously going to be his co-conspirator in this relationship. "He was a mess about the whole age thing before we turned it into a joke."

Joe rolled his eyes. "I'm still a mess about it, thanks." Also true.

Rob laughed at the two of them. "Hey, it's like my mom always said: if you can't find a good man, raise one."

"Okay, that's disturbing." Cisco shot a sideways at Joe, like he was suddenly wary. 

Joe snorted quietly. "I raised my kids already, thanks, and you have never been one of them." 

Cisco's side-eye shifted to a grin instantly. Rob chuckled from across the table.

Joe shook his head and looked over at David, though it was so hard not to grin at the two of them that his mouth twitched. "This is a bad thing we've done, bringing these two together."

The server showed up right then, water pitcher in hand, greeting them with a smile. Cisco and Rob contained their humor enough to listen to her.

From across the table, David met Joe’s eyes for a silent moment. His eyebrows lifted and lowered again with a glance over at Cisco.

He was impressed, Joe saw, and he sent his own shrug back.

Frankly, Joe was too.

 

* * *

 

 

He took Cisco’s hand under the table until their food got there. Nothing anyone in the restaurant around them would have seen, but the large picture windows on Joe’s other side would have given anyone watching from outside a clear view.

Cisco smiled over at him, squeezed his hand, and went right on back talking to Rob about whatever computer server issue Rob was having trouble with at his company. Apparently it was an old complaint, and Cisco and Rob really did talk a lot.

It didn’t surprise him when he really thought about it, though. Cisco was a friendly guy. Hell, even the guys at the station liked him, different as he was from most cops. Rob was nice enough, though Joe hadn’t actually talked to him very often. David liked to keep his private life far from the station, which Joe entirely understood. And envied, frankly, these days.

Rob had been quiet the few times Joe had met him. Not unfriendly, just a polite guy who seemed too reserved to open up to strangers easily. Cisco, though, he was the kind of person who could slide right through that reserve. Who could chat with a shy visitor about the horrors of gluten-free desserts until that visitor forgot to feel shy.

It was strange that Cisco didn’t seem to have more friends, now that Joe was thinking about it. Of course working at STAR didn’t lend itself to outside friendships - there was just too much there that he couldn’t have told anyone about, and it came up at all hours of the day. Between the work there, the metas, Cisco’s own growing abilities…

He was a friendly, happy guy whose life didn’t let him keep close friends.

It was too bad, really.

The conversation flowed well through the meal. They didn’t put any deliberate focus on Joe and Cisco’s relationship, but didn’t shy away from it. Cisco had a few pauses, a few uncertain looks Joe’s way, but for the most part he kept up well. Even those pauses could have been explained away. They weren’t, after all, a couple who was used to being able to openly talk about each other this way.

It was simple. As they had at the start of the night, it was mostly just a matter of framing things they already knew about each other with a slightly closer degree of intimacy and affection.

Joe had no trouble summoning up that affection for Cisco. Even after the meal, when Cisco was stealing bites of the dessert he’d forced Joe to order while they all had coffee.

Everything felt easy, casual.

At least until David cleared his throat and regarded them seriously across the table, taking the good mood with him. “I know we’re banking on this guy having followed Rob and I here, but we have no way of knowing what kind of schedule he’s watching us on.”

Rob tensed across from him, his eyes suddenly glued to his coffee. Joe felt for him.

“So is there a Plan B for you to get his attention in case this wasn’t enough?”

Joe sighed and looked over at Cisco. “I’ve been wondering if this will actually be enough, even if he's out there right now. Whitman was out to everyone at the station, just like you. This guy’s gripe might not just be based on the idea of gay cops, but gay cops who seem to flaunt their relationships to everyone.”

David grimaced. “Flaunt,” he repeated with some contempt.

Joe held up his hands. “You know how people like that think, David. You don’t have to make out in the middle of the bullpen for your relationship to be scrutinized harder than any straight person in the department.”

David looked over at Rob, sliding a hand to his back when he saw the tension there. “You know, I’d actually stopped thinking that this kind of thing was inevitable. We’ve been out for years, there was never a problem.”

“And once we take care of this guy it could be years more before anything else happens, if it ever does.” Joe said that more for Rob’s benefit than David’s. “I sure as hell hope that ‘inevitable’ is still wrong.”

David shook his head, but squared his shoulders and regarded Joe. “My question stands: if this wasn’t enough for our stalker to focus in on you, what’s the next move?”

Joe hadn’t thought that far ahead. Surely there were all kinds of ways to get accidentally outed to his friends, his kids. But to a station full of cops?

“Problem is it’s got to be believable. Not the relationship, the outing. Otherwise the guy might just assume Whitman talked, or you planned this on your own, and it’s just a diversion.” He scratched at his goatee absently. “Anyone who knows me at work knows that I try to stay professional while I’m working, and this guy might well know me. Hell, I walked away from my foster son after he woke from his nine month coma because I had to take a robbery call. So how do I get past my own sense of discretion enough to make whatever might out us believable?”

David just nodded. “There’s the question.”

At his side Cisco spoke. “I’m not a cop.”

Joe and David looked over at him.

Cisco waved a hand, grinning. “You know that, yes. But I’m saying...I’m totally the weakest link in this set-up. You’d be too careful to accidentally let anything slip in front of your cop buds, but I wouldn’t. I’m an idiot.”

“Genius idiot,” Joe said, and it came out sounding way more fond than he meant it to.

“Exactly! So what if...you know, something happens, you’re in danger, I react like the devoted and over-dramatic boyfriend that I would totally be, and boom. I could just like kiss the crap out of you in front of everyone or something.”

Joe laughed. “It’s nice in theory, but how are we going to arrange something dangerous that doesn’t actually hurt anyone? Keeping in mind that we can’t ask for help from...” He glanced over at David. “...anyone else.”

Cisco’s smile faded. “Oh, yeah. Hmm.”

“Yeah, no. No danger.” David glanced between them, eyes narrowed. “I mean if something happens in the next few days, feel free to take advantage. But meantime we’ll do this as safely as we can.” He slid his arm around Rob again. “The whole point of this is to keep everyone safe while we stop this guy.”

Rob offered him a small smile, but it faded as he looked over at Cisco. “I don’t know how I feel about putting you into danger just to keep me safe.”

“Pfft.” Cisco waved a hand airily. “My life’s dull,” he said, and if Joe didn’t know him well he wouldn’t have detected the outright lie in those words. “I could use a shakeup, don’t worry about me.” He leaned over and nudged his hand against Rob’s.

Instantly he froze, his face taking on a sudden slack.

Joe recognized that. He’d seen Cisco’s vibe face enough by now, though it still caught him off guard to see all the energy drain out of that expressive face, even as short as it tended to last.

He cleared his throat hurriedly to get everyone’s attention off of Cisco. “That’s right. Besides, it’s better to have this guy focused on our act rather than your actual life.”

“I suppose.”

“Hey.” He focused on Rob, trying not to look over as Cisco sucked in a sudden breath that meant he was coming back from his vibe. “We volunteered for this, both of us. We would have done that whether it was you and David in danger or it was the first cop he targeted.”

Rob studied him, but nodded. His shoulders lost a little of their tension. “Just be careful.”

“We’ll be fine. We’ve got each other, right?” Cisco’s voice was a little sharp, a little edged, though his smile was back in place. He pushed away from the table suddenly. “I’m gonna. Bathroom.”

“Yeah.” Joe shot a thin grin across the table as Cisco left. “I think we can call this a night, right?”

“Right.” David’s brow furrowed slightly, but he shrugged. “Well, until we think of a way to out you in front of everyone, why don’t we schedule another dinner? Rob and I are leaving this weekend, maybe if he loses track of us and knows about you, that will be enough. Even if he’d prefer an out target.”

“Maybe.” Joe stood, looking after Cisco. “Maybe he’ll out us himself if he wants it so badly.” He grabbed his coat and Cisco’s blazer from the back of their chairs. “Let’s plan it tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes he got so _tired_ of seeing horrible things.

Cisco really wished there was someone to blame for the way these metahuman powers got assigned out. Other people could fly, and time travel, and teleport. Cisco got horror movies and migraines.

Honestly. So unfair.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and he scowled at it, and at his dripping reflection in the mirror.

“Cisco?”

He let Joe in an instant later, trying to grin as he pushed soggy hair out of his face. “Sorry about that.”

“What did you see?”

Sometime soon he was going to have to ask what it looked like when he vibed, because obviously Joe had known instantly, but nobody else had noticed.

Cisco shrugged. “I don’t think…” He sighed and leaned against the wall. It was a nice roomy bathroom, he’d give the restaurant that much. He rubbed his face. “I don’t think it matters.”

“Hey.” Joe approached him, openly worried. He scanned Cisco carefully, brow furrowed, eyes sympathetic. “It matters.”

“No, I mean.” Cisco sighed, but Joe’s worry was hard to resist. “You remember the first times I vibed, when I didn’t even know what it was?”

“When you saw Wells killing you?”

“Yeah. It felt like that. Distant, kinda faded, but still real. Not like the usual vibes I have now.” He drew in a breath and whooshed it out. “I think it happened during the timeline Barry changed.”

“What? What happened?”

“The captain got hurt. Bad.”

He’d gotten flashes. Mark Mardon, and the station, and Joe being targeted by a blast of lightning that he was shoved away from. He’d seen the hospital, a private room, Singh staring blankly up at nothing, empty-eyed. Like he just wasn’t home inside his head. Rob sitting at his bedside where he’d been for hours, holding a limp hand in his, too devastated to notice the tears running down his own face.

He shuddered and straightened, pushing off the wall. He took his blazer from Joe’s hand, frowning as he slid it on.

“Doesn’t matter. Barry erased it.” He looked up at Joe, solemn. “What matters is nothing like it’s gonna happen now, whatever we’ve got to do.”

Joe clapped him on the shoulder, worry still digging lines into his brow. But he nodded. “That’s why we’re doing this, right?”

Right. Cisco drew in one last bracing breath and tried out a smile.

Joe returned it after a moment. “Come on, time to go home. If nothing else this was a great way to stick David with the bill.”

 

* * *

 

 

Singh called him into his office first thing the next morning and smiled once the door was shut. “Rob asked me this morning why we don’t go out with other couples more often.”

Joe chuckled.

“He completely forgot you two weren’t actually together, even after we talked about the stalker right in front of him. Hell, _I_ almost forgot for a while.” He clapped Joe on the shoulder. “It was good to see him so relaxed. I hate to say it, but I might have to get him and Ramon together more often.”

“Don’t hurt yourself or anything.” But Joe’s grin was short-lived. “He’s taking this hard.”

David nodded, slouching back against his desk. “He’s been nervous since these metahumans first started popping up. I tell him too much about the job, I think, but he insists he wants to know.” He sighed. “It’s gotten worse since the fire in his building a few months back. This new stalker is the icing on an already shitty cake.”

“Hey, whatever we can do to get you two out of this guy’s sights as soon as possible, Cisco and me are willing.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Singh raised his eyebrows suddenly, folding his arms over his chest. “Want to tell me why you both took off at the end of dinner the way you did?”

“Nope. Had nothing to do with the case, though.”

“Mm.” Singh scrutinized him, but shrugged. “How are you feeling about doing this?”

“So far so good. The stressful part hasn’t even started yet, but…” He shrugged. “I feel better than I did at first, that’s for sure.”

“Still think nobody’s gonna buy it?”

Joe thought back on dinner the night before, but sighed after a moment. “There’s a lot about Cisco and me together that doesn’t make any damn sense. No amount of prep work is gonna change that.”

“Well, speaking as someone who watched a preview last night, there’s a lot that _does_ make sense. It works, Joe. God only knows how, but it does.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco had a schedule for checking in on Earth-2. He peeked in now and then when he was having a bored moment, or to practice his vibing and make it more precise. But Wednesdays, every week, right at noon, he made sure to vibe over to Harry’s office at his STAR. That way if there was anything wrong Harry knew when to communicate it to him.

The last few weeks Harry and Jesse had both been busy working on helping Jay Garrick. Apparently finding a way to identify a specific alternate universe from scratch in order to send him home was harder than Harry had anticipated. But not the worse for it: Jay missed his wife, Joan, but in the meantime Earth-2 had a Flash again. He was helping to clean the mess Zoom had left behind, and putting away his remaining minions.

Seemed to work out well.

But Cisco wasn’t too surprised that Wednesday, when he sat in the Wellses old bedroom and slid on his goggles, to see that he had a message waiting for him.

Harry was working at his desk, as he usually was when Cisco vibed in. But on the whiteboard he now kept in his office he’d scrawled a message.

_Ramon: time to play with portals. I need to come visit._

He smirked at it, focusing so he could practice another little-used skill: actual communicating.

“It’s cool if you want to sleep over, but I gotta ask my mom.”

Harry, focused on the tablet in front of him, jumped so hard half the papers on his desk went flying.

Cisco laughed, delighted, but didn’t bother focusing enough that Harry could hear his enjoyment.

“Ramon.” Harry sagged back, scowling out at nothing. He glanced at his watch, and made a face. “I lost track of time. Let me call Garrick. You get down to the sub-basement so you can open that portal.”

“Roger. Five minutes, I’ll check back in.”

He took another moment to enjoy watching Harry recover from being startled, then he pulled himself back into his own body. He slid the goggles off with a grin and stood from the cot.

He didn’t actually have to use the sub-basement anymore; he’d gotten good enough to be able to pull transdimensional energy to him instead of having to go to it. But if Harry was coming around he had to warn people. And he wasn’t sure he particularly wanted Harry to know he’d been spending time in his old bedroom. He had good reason, of course, but Harry’s ego didn’t need help to make it about him.

Cisco had missed him, though, giant asshole that he was. A visit would be good.

A visit when nobody was in danger would be even better.

He sent a quick group text as he moved through the corridor to the nearest elevator.

_Harry dropping by. Nobody shoot when you see him. < _

By the time he got down to the sub-basement, he’d gotten a thumbs-up from Barry, a question mark from Caitlin, and a _‘ha ha, smartass’_ from Joe that made him laugh.

Five minutes later, Jay Garrick was back on Earth-1, lugging a suit-and-tie wearing Harry Wells with him.

Cisco beamed at them both, giving Jay a quick hug in greeting even as he looked back at the door in to make sure Barry hadn’t come to see things for himself. “Hey, so. I’ve heard a lot about what you’ve done on Earth-2. Nice job, restoring the good name of Flashes everywhere.”

Jay chuckled, and god, was that eerie. So like Henry it was painful. “It’s the least I can do, as long as I’m stuck. Which, I believe, is what Harrison needs to consult with you about.”

“Oh yeah?” Cisco glanced over at Harry, who made a dismissive face back at him. Never one to admit needing help. Cisco made a face right back at him and turned back to Jay. “Hey, so. Are you planning to, um, hang around while we work? Because…”

Jay shook his head, going solemn just like that. “Harrison made sure I paid a visit to see my Earth-2 doppelganger, along with his family. I understand better now why my presence here was difficult.” He clapped Cisco on the shoulder and slid his helmet on. “I’m sure Barry can deliver Harrison back safely when he’s done here. Now, if you don’t mind…”

Cisco nodded, trying not to be too visibly relieved as he slid his goggles back on to reopen the portal.

Jay looked back at him before going through again. “Tell Barry I’ll be happy to come back, if he ever wants it. Someday the idea might appeal to him.”

“I will.”

Jay squared his shoulders and charged through the portal.

Cisco let out a breath as he let the energy disperse from his hand, shutting the portal again. “Man. That is a hero right there.”

“Insufferable? So earnest you want to punch his teeth in? Yeah, that’s him.” Harry hauled a small black duffel bag over his shoulder, scowl firmly in place. “‘Watch your language, Harrison.’ ‘Why not treat people with basic human kindness, Harrison.’”

“I can see where that sort of extremism would chafe.” Cisco grinned as he plucked the goggles off. “ _Harrison_.”

“Actually…” Harry scowled at him, but there was humor in the way his mouth twitched. “I generally go by Harry now.”

Cisco beamed. “I knew you loved me.”

“Well, more accurately I still go by Doctor Wells, which of course involves more respect than the rabble on this Earth ever showed me.” He marched towards the door without a look back. “I assume adopting the nickname is a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome, leftover trauma from my time stuck in this godless wilderness.”  

“Aaaand you’re ruining it.” Cisco caught up easily. “Come on, Doctor Harrison Harry Wells, let’s go play with the multiverse.”

 

* * *

 

 

Katherine Spurro was supposed to be an easy collar.

Joe had DNA evidence on hair left behind at the jewelry store she’d robbed, she already had a record, had an address listed with her PO, and she was by all accounts not some freaky-ass metahuman.

This was the job the way he used to do it, before things in the city got so weird. And, okay, he didn’t have a partner with him this time around, but there was a couple of uniforms in a patrol car following him, he was hardly alone.

Not that there was anything too dangerous about this. Of course when threatening the freedom of a recently-released convict Joe was always on his toes, because people did scary things to stay out of jail. But Spurro had never been violent in the slightest. She came quietly her first arrest years ago, and had a perfect behavioral record in prison.

Who knew, maybe this last robbery was her way of going back in. The sad fact was that felons often had such a hard time on the outside finding work, and dealing with restrictions and parole, that they found it easier to go back to prison. Or they found they had no alternative but to go back to crime to make ends meet.

Wasn’t his job to fix the problems with the system, though, and Joe had to admit to a certain degree of cynicism at this point in his career. Spurro hadn’t been out long enough for the world to become unmanageable for her. She was just a career criminal, and that was all she wanted to be.

Probably.

In hindsight, Joe’s biggest mistake was assuming it would go smoothly. He’d been dealing with metahumans for so long that he tended to think back on regular human crimes with a sort of nostalgia, when really crime had always been dangerous and ugly.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have been surprised that the simple, metahuman-free apprehension of a non-violent criminal turned into the longest and slowest car chase of his career and ended up with him sliding up a curb and crunching his bumper on the thin but stubborn tree planted on the sidewalk downtown.

But there it was.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re gonna what now?”

Harry heaved a sigh. Apparently his time being back home with Jesse hadn’t lessened his impatience for people not following his wild trains of thought.

“I’m going to hook you up to a BCI and bombard your brain with electrical currents matching the frequency I pulled off of Jay Garrick until you’re able to convert the Earth-2 transdimensional energies around us into that of Earth-3, so that you can open a portal and he can stop trying to lecture manners into me.”

“Huh. Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Cisco nodded slowly, shooting Barry and Caitlin a silent pleading look.

Caitlin cleared her throat. “Harry. Maybe before subjecting Cisco’s brain to an untested stimulus you can help me finish up my own research into his vibing, at least to help avoid any potentially nasty side effects.”

She was his best friend. Barry who?

Harry looked blankly over at her. “Why?”

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “So that you don’t kill him?”

“Yep. Yeah.” Cisco pointed at her. “That.”

Harry rolled his eyes, because of course he did. “Ramon isn’t going to die if he’s subjected to Earth-3-specific electrical impulses.”

“Like _I_ wasn’t going to die when re-subjected to the effects of the original accelerator accident?”

Okay, Cisco had two best friends.

Harry glared at Barry. “You look pretty good for a dead man, Allen.”

“Look.” Cisco spoke up, confident now that his two bestest friends were behind him. “I’m all for helping to get Jay home, and I have to admit adding a third Earth to my whole portal-opening repertoire would be seriously dope. But even _more_ dope would be us pretending to care whether my brain fries long enough to run some initial tests on something that is _not_ my brain.”

Harry bared his teeth for a moment, but sagged, throwing his arms up. “You people frustrate me.”

“Uh huh. Does Earth-2 not have ethical standards when it comes to scientific experimentation on humans, or are you just a whole entire _pile_ of dicks?” Cisco answered back easily.

Harry’s mouth twitched, but he waved Cisco away with a terse gesture and headed for Caitlin. “Fine, Snow, show me this work you’ve been doing.”

Harry Wells was mostly bark, Cisco had learned a while back. But there was some real bite in there. He just had to make sure he stayed on the bark side, because Harry didn’t have a good track record when it came to ensuring other people’s safety.

Barry watched Harry with Caitlin for a moment, then ambled over to Cisco. “Dude.”

Cisco nodded his agreement. “Like old times, huh?”

Barry grinned, but before he could answer Cisco’s phone started blasting the chorus to Rihanna’s Work.

He dug his phone out and stared at the name on the display in surprise. He didn’t think Captain Singh had ever called him before. He glanced at Barry and made a face at the phone. “Fam. Gotta take this.”

Barry flashed a sympathetic smile and wandered over towards the others.

Cisco answered, keeping his voice casual just in case. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“ _Man?_ ” Singh repeated dryly. “We just got a call, Joe was involved in a minor accident about a mile from that lab of yours.”

“Whoa. Is he okay?”

“He tapped a tree at about fifteen miles an hour, he’s fine. But I’m thinking the over-excitable non-cop weak link boyfriend maybe didn’t hear that part of the news?”

Cisco blinked, but beamed. “You liked my idea!”

“Ramon. Can you get out there or not?”

“Yep. Oh, hang on a sec.” He lowered the phone and turned to the others, pasting on an expression that was hopefully worried-but-trying-to-hide it, or whatever this situation would involve. “Hey, guys, I gotta...um, Dante. He’s…” He blew out a raspberry, waving his hand aimlessly. “Bar. Alcohol. I gotta...I’ll be back in a few.”

“What a fascinating look at your life, Ramon,” Harry replied without even looking up from Caitlin’s monitors.

Cisco rolled his eyes, but grabbed the keys to the lab van and headed out of the cortex in a hurry. He raised the phone once he was far enough out. “Okay, where is he?”

 

* * *

 

 

The ambulance and the tow truck were regulation for any cop involved in any kind of accident, so as embarrassing and unnecessary as they were, Joe accepted their presence.

The ten different black-and-whites that converged on the scene, on the other hand...they were just ridiculous. Hopefully that patrol car was still after Spurro; her getting away would just pile on to the embarrassment.

There was a crowd forming, which wasn’t a big surprise but didn’t help anything. There were a line of bars and restaurants to the side, and a pack of people by the windows and hanging out outside the door. Drawn, no doubt, by the entire _crowd_ of police cars parked and hanging around a place where there was no suspect and no one to arrest. Just a sedan up on a curb.

He was going to have to have a word with Singh later about how patrol officers picked their priorities.

The EMT was nice enough not to laugh at him when he slunk over and submitted himself for the required health check, at least. He was sitting on the back of the ambulance getting his blood pressure taken, like they thought this ridiculous accident was going to give him a heart attack or something, when he heard a familiar voice.

He looked over, nudging the EMT away as he saw Cisco Ramon pushing through the line of patrolmen. Cisco looked terrified, looking around at the crowd of cars and the ambulance with huge, worried eyes.

Joe stood up instantly. Had something happened? His first thought was Barry, out there getting himself into trouble while Joe was caught in the world’s most ridiculous car chase.

Cisco darted over to him, and Joe opened his mouth to ask, but something stopped him.

Cisco looked him up and down, his hair disheveled, his eyes round and worried. He grabbed Joe by the shoulder suddenly and tugged at him.

Joe went reflexively.

It took him a moment to register the way Cisco had darted up to meet him, shoving right into his personal space and then closer still, until there was the hot press of a mouth on his.

Shock made everything around him fade back, the lights and the crowd and the sounds of the gathered patrol officers chatting and wasting taxpayer money, all of it seemed to vanish.

Cisco’s arm looped around his neck, pulling him in tighter, and Joe found himself reaching out, fumbling hands finding Cisco’s waist and sliding around to his back. The adrenaline of seeing Cisco and diving right into a panic was slowing his thoughts down, and it took him a moment of simply enjoying the desperate slide of full lips moving against his before he caught on.

Jesus, right. What a way to start an undercover assignment.

His hands tightened around Cisco with that thought, as he realized that Cisco hadn’t just lost his mind: this was exactly what ought to be happening right now.

It occurred to him that they’d probably made their point already, but Cisco’s arm held him in place, and he didn’t see any particular reason not to make this worth the gossip it would cause. He brought a hand up and slid it to the back of Cisco’s neck, feeling the brush of long hair against his fingers.

Cisco’s breath puffed hot against his cheek, sending a little tingle of goosebumps down Joe’s arms.

Christ, it had been a long damn time since Joe had been kissed, much less a clinging and wild kiss like this one. It wasn’t until he started to slide his lips apart to probe Cisco’s warm mouth deeper that he caught himself, and the realization of the job came back to him.

He jerked back, gasping for air.

Assignment. Focus. He had just been kissed - really well-kissed - by his longtime lover, in public, surrounded by patrol officers.

He forgot to drop his hands from Cisco’s neck and the small of his back until he looked around, and saw that most of those patrol officers were outright gaping at them. Frozen in place, mouths open, all but pointing at the spectacle. He jerked again, stepping back and out of Cisco’s grasp.

Cisco was the weak link, that was what he’d said. And he played it perfectly, looking around after Joe, eyes huge, body going tense.

Mouth damp and full, breath coming fast after that kiss. Hair tousled by Joe’s fingers.

Okay, focus.

Just got outed by his over-emotional lover. Cisco was the weak link so Joe had to be the strong one, the one who had fought for an entire year to keep this exact thing from happening.

He forced his face into something harder, if not quite a real scowl, as he regarded Cisco.

Cisco swallowed visibly, but turned back to Joe and moved in, leaning up and close.

“This is why I’m a genius, you know,” he said, face worried and tone all mischief.

Joe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. He nodded, like what Cisco had said had actually been some kind of apology for what had just happened.

Well, even a closeted Joe West wasn’t going to push his lover away once the damage was done, so he slid his arm around Cisco, bent in near his ear as if reassuring him that he was okay.

“Genius idiot,” he said instead, and damned if that overt fondness wasn’t back in his voice.

Cisco relaxed a little, curling in at his side.

Joe’s fingers stroked up the small of his back as he looked around again, chin raised and features set. Taking ownership.

This time a few eyes actually averted, and some of the officers clumped into pairs and started talking a mile a minute.

The EMT cleared his throat suddenly, also a little wide-eyed. “Detective? You’re all set here, everything’s clear.” His eyes darted to Cisco and back to Joe.

It really was hard not to chuckle. Who knew Joe West’s love life would cause such a scene?

He nodded his thanks and steered Cisco away from the ambulance. “Well, if just one cop had seen this it would be all over the station by morning. I’m thinking with this crowd we’re probably on someone’s Facebook already.”

Cisco’s mouth worked like he had to bite back a smile. “Send me a link if you see video. I bet it was pretty awesome.”

“Give me a lift to the station? Gotta write a report on this mess.” He sent Cisco a faint smile. “The accident, not the last part. That Singh will confine to his office.”

“Really? I kinda want to know what formal cop-speak you’d use to describe it.” Cisco led the way to the van, shooting Joe a private grin before turning nervous eyes to the cops they had to move past to get away from the scene.

Joe kept his eyes raised, his expression stern. Daring the officers around them to turn his life into gossip, as if he didn’t realize it was inevitable.

Only when they were in the STAR Labs van and pulling into traffic, away from the view of spectators, did he relax, laughter rumbling low in his chest.

“Well, damn, I guess that’s one way to do things.”

Cisco beamed over at him. “Singh called me, so he’s ready and waiting. And dang, Joe, if you’d told me how good a kisser you are I might’ve gone ahead and done that in the middle of the station for whatever lame reason I could think up.”

Joe chucked, head dropping back against the seat. Okay, that kiss had been completely unprofessional, but maybe that was one advantage to doing this with a civilian: Cisco didn’t seem to realize how above-and-beyond it was.

He glanced over, and maybe it was the passing streetlights but Cisco’s face seemed flushed. Joe reached over and lay a hand on his arm, the kind of casually affectionate gesture they were going to have to start getting used to. “Well. It’s done now.”

Cisco glanced down at his hand. He worried at his bottom lip for a moment, but turned a small smile to Joe before looking back at the road. “So what now?”

“Damage control, as far as the closeted Joe West is concerned. There’s no plugging this hole, so he’s going to have a long talk with Singh when we get to the station. And then…”

“He’ll tell his kids before they hear it from someone else,” Cisco guessed.

“Bingo. Well, Wally and Barry, anyway.”

“Man. Barry’s going to…” Cisco let out a breath. “I have no idea what he’s gonna do.”

“He’s not close-minded, Cisco.”

“No, I know, but. You’re basically his dad, Joe. I’m his friend. I think this is gonna hit him weird.”

Joe looked out at the road, considering that. Well, there wasn’t much use worrying about it either way, and he had faith in his kid. “So, do you want to be there for the awkward conversation?”

Cisco hesitated, but shook his head. “I think just-outed Cisco Ramon would head back to the lab and explain things to Caitlin and Harry, if they’re still there. You’ve got your family, I’ve got mine.”

“Fair enough. Just tell Barry to head home if he’s still there. I’d rather him hear this from me.”

 

***

 

Cisco sat at Joe’s desk, looking idly towards the office where Joe and the captain had been holed up since they walked in. He had texted Caitlin, and she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry, so he had some time to kill.

He didn’t work in the station as much as he had when he first became the meta team’s consultant, but nobody was ever surprised to see him hanging around. So the blatant looks he was getting from people walking by, those were pretty easy to interpret.

Joe wasn’t kidding about news spreading fast. There were people moving through the floor of the Major Crimes team who Cisco had never even seen in passing. They were wandering through, usually in little groups, and didn’t bother to hide their curiosity as they looked between Singh’s office and Cisco, sitting slouched in Joe’s chair.

“Ramon.”

He jumped, looking guiltily towards Singh’s office.

Singh gestured him to come in, looking tired.

Cisco glanced around, but put his head down and all but slunk to the office. Maybe some of the whispers around him would go a little sympathetic.

Singh watched him sternly, and shut the door after him. He leaned back against the door, facing away from the door and windows, and shook his head at the two of them. “Well, I’ve had two calls from other department captains already, so I’d say everything went well.”

“Go big or go home, right?” Cisco flashed a grin, hoping it looked nervous and awkward, as he would no doubt be in this situation.

Joe moved over to him so they were facing the captain together. “We’ll be the biggest gossip around here for a while. If this stalker is angered by gay cops being out, he’ll be hearing about nothing but us for at least a few days. Couple that with you taking that vacation of yours, and we’ve got a good chance at drawing his focus.”

Singh nodded. “Well, keep working Whitman’s cases in the meantime. Mr. Ramon, feel free to hang around and help. You’re still a consultant, and seeing you two together here will keep the talk circulating. Meantime…” He flashed a tired smile. “Head home. Any report can wait for tomorrow.”

Joe nodded sharply. He glanced at Cisco, and gave him a small smile. “Come on, kid. Tonight’s the toughest part, after this it’s just stirring the pot.”

“I’m good,” Cisco answered easily.

He wasn’t entirely good, he was pretty damn nervous, though he wasn’t sure why. His life was a lie starting tonight, and one he had to let all his friends believe. But whatever, it was a fake relationship, not something life-changing. Caitlin knew he’d dated guys before, and he couldn’t imagine Harry would give a crap about a single thing related to Cisco’s personal life.

Barry...well. He was glad Joe was taking care of telling him.

He headed for the door beside Joe, but Singh held up a hand to stop them. He regarded the two of them for a long, serious moment.

“You two taking this on to get it off me and my husband...that’s not the kind of thing I take lightly. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I’ve got your backs, which luckily won’t be out of character for me in this scenario. Mr. Ramon…”

Cisco met his eyes, uncertain.

“This goes double for you. You’re not a cop, this isn’t anything like your job. It means a lot...” He paused, throat working.

Cisco’s eyes widened. He was absolutely in no place to handle an emotional Captain Singh. “Hey, it’s cool. You guys are gonna keep me safe, and I get to spend a few weeks making out with a hot detective, so. This is a win for me.”

Singh rolled his eyes, but his smile looked sincere. “Right. Well, Joe had a point. This was the hard part. The rest is just keeping up appearances. So go home, both of you. Talk to whoever you need to, and get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

He looked between them and his smile grew. “Alone or together. I’ll leave that up to you.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I added to the total chapter count because I had to split this middle one into two in order to get something posted today. Also it was getting stupid long. But here.

They were in the cortex, right where he’d left them.

Harry had pulled up a chair and was working off the second station at Caitlin’s desk. They were both silent, focused, and Cisco still didn’t quite know how to handle the fact that what they were focused on was something that would help _him._  

It almost made him feel guilty about what he was there to do. But this ‘relationship’ had nothing to do with his vibing, so. Maybe not.

“Barry leave?” he asked as he left the doorway and moved in, pretending he didn’t know Joe had texted him to go home.

Caitlin blinked up at him, and smiled. “Yeah. Quiet night in Central City. He was going a little stir-crazy. How’s Dante?”

Cisco drew in a breath and let it out. He dropped his jacket over by the side console and turned back to them. “No idea, haven’t heard from him all day.”

She blinked. “I thought…”

“Yeah. Um. That was a lie?”

Harry finally looked up at that, some vague interest lighting his eyes.

Cisco fidgeted absently, fingers plucking at the hem of his t-shirt. “So. Um.”

Caitlin’s eyebrows were high already. “What’s going on, Cisco?”

He sucked in a breath, wondering why he felt so genuinely nervous. “I’ve been seeing somebody. For a while, actually.”

Harry let out an audible groan and went right back to his work.

Cisco rolled his eyes, but whatever, Caitlin was the only one he was worried about anyway. “It’s a secret. Well, it _was_ a secret, but I guess I just kinda ruined that.”

Caitlin stood up, moving around the console. Her eyes were wide, but sympathetic. “Just tell me, Cisco.”

“He was in an accident. Tonight. That’s why I left. I didn’t know how bad it was. And. Um. I kinda. Freaked a little, in front of other people, so. No more secret. And you’re gonna hear about it either way, so.”

Harry’s eyebrows twitched a little at that first pronoun, but he kept right on working.  

Caitlin studied him carefully. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah.” Cisco laughed a little. “It was basically nothing. I’m just an idiot.”

“Stop that. I’m sure it’s going to be fine. He was closeted?”

“Because of work,” Cisco confirmed. “And. Okay. It’s. You, um. You know him. I mean, of course, but.”

“Just say his name before you choke on it,” Harry grumbled at his monitor.

Cisco shot him a quick glare, but hey, fair enough. “It’s Joe.”

Caitlin’s eyes went perfectly round.

“Joe.” Harry looked up then, eyebrows practically at his hairline. “Joe West.”

Cisco nodded. “So, yeah. Guess who just outed him in front of a dozen cops?”

Harry sat back, looking at him intently. “You and Detective Joe West have been seeing each other, and now people know.”

“That...is a summary, yes.”

“And that upset him, people finding out?”

“Um. Yeah? It’s a shit thing to do to someone, Harry.”

“I didn’t realize Joe was a coward,” Harry said, his voice strangely stiff.

“Hey!” Cisco didn’t have to fake a strong reaction to that. “He’s not a coward. He has good reasons for wanting to keep his life private.”

“Mm. And now that it’s not private?”

He frowned at Harry. “It’s fine. I mean, we’re gonna deal with it. So now I’m telling you guys. And he’s telling his kids. Iris knows, actually, but. The other two. And that’s that. Everyone will know.” He looked at Caitlin, who was still standing perfectly frozen. Cisco swallowed. “So. If you could have a reaction, that would be great.”

She let out a huff of air. “God, so many things make _sense_ now!”

Cisco blinked. “They do?”

“Yes! You two working together so much, and always sticking so close when we’re all gathered together. And I _knew_ I wasn’t imagining those looks I saw sometimes between you.” Her mouth split into a wide smile. “I always liked how you make each other laugh.”

Cisco heaved a gusty sigh, but it wasn’t entirely relief. Now he was going to feel even more guilty after this was over and he admitted it was never real.

He had no doubt whatever she’d noticed was his own fault. He always had sort of _aimed_ himself towards Joe. The man was compelling, in a lot of ways, and Cisco’s stupid crush was nothing new.

God, and it was so much _worse_ now. He could still feel the heat of Joe’s mouth, the rasp of his goatee, the press of his hand firm against Cisco’s neck. Actually kissing him was supposed to stop him from losing himself in wondering what kissing Joe would actually be like, but. Sometimes knowledge only made things worse, and this was definitely one of those times.

He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts, and sent Caitlin a crooked grin. “So we’re cool?”

She laughed and moved in, taking hold of his arms. “I’m happy for you, Cisco.” Her smile was wide and sincere. “Both of you.”

He let out a relieved breath and returned her grin, consciously not looking back at Harry. “Thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Joe usually loved being surrounded by his kids. A literal embarrassment of riches, when all three of them were with him. They were strong, smart, kind. Each one of them. There was a fullness in his heart when they were all together. A pang, too, a feeling that Francine should have been there and known them all together the way Joe got to now, but mostly there was pure joy. Most of the time it was over dinner or game nights, with a lot of laughter. All smiles.

This was different. Very different.

He walked into his house to find them all waiting for him, as requested. Wally and Barry were at the dining room table looking at Wally’s laptop, probably talking over some kind of engineering whatever. Iris was on the couch watching the news, but she sat up as he came in and grabbed the remote to shut the television off.

Apparently his messages had communicated the solemnity of this coming chat.

This was a rough lie to tell. It really was. Yes, Joe had a pretty full history of telling his kids lies and half-truths, but it had always been to protect them. They didn’t always agree, and sometimes hindsight showed him errors in his rationale, but at least he had that solid reasoning to support him.

This lie. This was for work, for Singh and Rob and Whitman. It was a good lie. Important. But it wasn’t for his kids. It was to use them, their reactions, to sell a story. Their responses needed to be honest. Barry especially was at the station so often - and, admittedly, was such a _bad_ liar - that the only way to pull this off was if he believed it. For good or bad.

Still, it wasn’t easy. To lie, to use them. To risk putting some distance between him and Wally, which was the last thing he wanted these days. To risk Barry being hurt and upset. Those weren’t easy things.

It made him all the more glad he’d broken his own rules and told Iris what was happening. Knowing that her support was coming in full, no matter how his boys reacted, that gave him some extra courage.  

Wally and Barry looked over as Joe moved into the living room. He peeled his jacket off and draped it over the back of the couch, taking his time, giving this the gravity it needed.

“Dad?” Iris spoke first. “Everything okay?”

He looked over at her. She knew about the assignment, but she didn’t know it was happening now. Her concern was real, and he loved her for it.

He moved down the step and around the couch, meeting her with his arm outstretched. She slid into his half-hug, her concern obvious. But he sent her a small smile and directed his attention to the boys.

“I need to let you two know about this before someone else does,” he started solemnly.

Barry frowned instantly. “What’s going on?”

Joe straightened his spine. “Cisco and I have been seeing each other.”

Iris sucked in a breath at his side, but squeezed him around the middle and stayed put.

Wally blinked. “Cisco-from-STAR-Labs Cisco?”

Joe nodded. “It’s not new. He kept it quiet because I asked him to. But we’ve been...tonight people saw enough to put it together. A few people.” He grimaced at his own understatement. “So I’m making sure you boys hear it from me.”

Wally tilted his head a little, looking from Joe to Iris. “You already knew,” he put together as he studied her.

She nodded. “Yeah. I figured it out a while ago.”

Joe sent her a small, grateful smile.

“Huh.” Wally pushed away from the table, shutting his laptop. “Well. He’s a cool guy. We’ve been emailing back and forth about school stuff, dude’s better than the professor.” He got to his feet and moved lightly down into the living room. “You guys okay? Whoever saw you, are they cool?”

“They’re...cops.” Joe shrugged. “I’ve got the captain’s support, but I’m not gonna pretend other cops can’t cause trouble if they decide they don’t like it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got the Flash on your side.” Wally grinned and punched at his arm.

“That’s very true.” Joe had to fight not to look back at Barry, to try and interpret his silence. “You’re okay with this?” he asked Wally, unconsciously holding his breath for the response.

Wally shrugged easily. “I’ve been thinking that if you ever hooked up with somebody it’d be weird, like replacing mom. But Cisco? That is _so_ damn weird it’s nothing like that. So, yeah. As long as you understand that me not wanting to watch my dad get his PDA on is a very real feeling no matter who you’re with.”

Joe cracked into a ragged laugh. He reached out and grabbed Wally in an entirely sincere hug. “Thanks, son.”

“Sure.” Wally slapped his back and pulled away, glancing back behind him at the noticeably silent figure he’d left behind. “Um, yeah, I’m gonna head up to bed.”

Iris took Wally’s place in front of Joe, her eyes also on Barry. “I’m gonna take off, too.” She leaned up on her toes and gave him a tight hug. “This is gonna be okay, dad.”

“I hope so.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before she slipped away.

Wally pounded up the stairs quickly. Iris’s lighter foot padded to the front door and then out with just a faint jangle of keys.

And Joe couldn’t stall anymore.

He turned and approached the dining room table. “Didn’t figure you’d take this so quietly.”

Barry was sitting practically frozen, right where he’d been the moment Joe made his confession. But he blinked as Joe approached, and his shoulders loosened a little.

“I was waiting for the punchline,” he said, his voice faintly scratchy. “I was all set to laugh. Still am.” He looked around, as if just realizing he was still at the table at all. “I don’t get it, Joe.”

“What part?”

“Let’s start from the beginning.”

Joe’s frown was real: Barry’s strange flatness was obviously a bad sign. “Cisco and I have been seeing each other for a while.”

“Seeing each other.”

Joe pulled out the chair at the head of the table and dropped into it. “Dating. Well...” He made a face. “The kind of dating where we never really go out, because I wanted to keep this quiet.”

“Dating. You and Cisco Ramon.”

“Me and Cisco Ramon.”

“For a while.”

“Since last year.”

Barry did laugh at that, a little sputter of air that sounded mostly incredulous. “No.”

Joe peered at him. “Afraid so.”

“ _When?_ ”

“Whenever we can. A few hours here and there. Weekends, nights when there isn’t anything stealing our focus. Coffee in the mornings, back when he was at the station more.” They’d agreed on those answers, so Cisco wouldn’t tell him anything different if he asked.

Barry let out another scoff, but it was quieter, without heat. “This is the strangest prank I’ve ever…”

Joe raised his eyebrows, staying quiet.

“How could... _nobody_ noticed?”

“It started after that singularity, after Eddie and Ronnie. There was nobody else around to notice.”

Barry winced.

“Cisco was…” Joe considered, and sighed. “I suppose we were both pretty lonely. Everything else had changed, but we were working together at the station on the meta projects, and...we get along. We always have. It just grew.”

Barry nodded slightly at that, which Joe considered a win. He let out a slow breath after a moment and pushed to his feet. “It feels like a lot, okay? All this time, you were basically lying to us.”

Joe winced, but that was the story he’d chosen to tell. “I was,” he said. “And I had my reasons. If what happened tonight hadn’t happened you still wouldn’t know about it.”

Barry scowled. “You didn’t trust me. Or Iris, she said she found out, you didn’t tell her?”

“You think trust is the reason a man’s nervous about coming out to his kids?”

That wiped the scowl away, at least, but Barry’s eyes were still troubled. “You’re gay?”

“Bisexual. Both of us.” He tilted his head, studying Barry. “Cisco said his sexuality was no secret.”

Barry opened his mouth, then closed it. He frowned, lines forming along his forehead. “I guess I never...asked?”

“Almost like it wasn’t really your business, huh?” Joe managed a weak smile. “You were fine when I was keeping your secrets, Barry. Don’t get mad at me for keeping my own.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t going to stop on his way to bed, the unresolved talk with Barry weighing on his mind. But Wally’s room was right there, and undercover assignment or not Joe wouldn’t have been able to sleep thinking his boy might have been more upset than he let on.

He knocked, and pushed the door open at Wally’s quiet answering grunt.

Wally had cluttered up the bedroom impressively, but it was mostly school things so Joe didn’t complain. At least he assumed the charts and papers and books were school things. Wally’s enthusiasm for his classes was something Joe was never going to be anything but supportive about.

Wally was laying on top of the covers of his bed, staring at his phone. He looked up, and raised an eyebrow at Joe.

Then he held out his phone.

Joe blinked, but came over and took it. There was a text conversation on the screen, and he could only see part of Wally’s last message, but when he saw Cisco’s name at the top his face heated. He read what Cisco had just sent.

_ >And I’m totally not saying you HAVE to call me Mr. Ramon now. I’m just saying I look at you like my own child and I think that ought to earn me some respect. _

“Oh god.” Joe rolled his eyes, and grinned at Wally’s laugh.

“Dude’s a clown, dad.”

“Got that right.” Joe handed the phone back.

“Might keep you young, though. Well. As much as possible.”

“Yeah, he ain’t the only clown in my life.”

Wally’s answering grin, along with those texts, the fact of his joking around with Cisco after what he’d just found out, did everything to reassure Joe that at least two of his kids were going to be fine with this.

He smiled down at Wally, getting one of those warm, heavy feelings like his heart was full-up in a way it almost didn’t have room for.

But he just smiled and let Wally go back to his texting. “Goodnight, son.”

 

* * *

 

 

Going to the police station early the next morning was stress-inducing. Telling his friends had been bad enough - he still wasn’t sure what to make of Harry’s reaction, and he couldn’t help but be greatly aware of radio silence from Barry even after Joe must have told him - and the lab was Cisco’s world. The police station wasn’t a place he ever really melded into. The detectives gave him a nickname and listened with grins on their faces while he talked about metas he was sure were out there, but.

Cops weren’t the most inclusive group. If you were one of them you were usually safe. If you weren’t there wasn’t much you could do to get yourself in. Cisco had saved cops’ lives before, so he was as close as a person could get without a badge. But he was still nothing more than...a mascot, maybe. The weird science nerd on staff.

Now he was the weird science nerd who just outed Joe West.

Still, he sucked it up and headed in, because Singh was right that him being around the station more would keep the gossip going. And it wasn’t really his decision: he’d offered to do this, that meant he had to follow Joe and Singh’s lead.

Anyway, it wasn’t like he was scared of what might happen. Aside from one dangerous exception, he didn’t fear any overly horrible reactions from anyone. The cops respected Joe too much. So despite some glimmers of insecurity, Cisco put on his big boy pants and headed to the station to help Joe work on Whitman’s caseload.

If courage was aided by a stop at Jitters and a few sugary purchases, well. He was who he was.

When he walked in and through the lobby of the station, he tried not to pay attention to people around him. He stared ahead of him so hard he almost bumped into the doorway going into the squad room.

Joe didn’t look up until he set the second coffee he’d brought down on his desk. He looked over from his computer monitor and blinked. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Cisco’s ears were heating: it was never that quiet in the squad room. He offered Joe a lopsided smile and lofted his bag of extra purchases. “Cherry danish for each of us, because I’m better than you deserve.”

Joe chuckled, but his eyes went behind Cisco and swept over the strangely quiet room. He had none of Cisco’s shyness; he simply lofted his eyebrows and dared any of their observers to say anything.

One did, a uniform Cisco didn’t know, safely in a corner with enough room between him and Joe to escape if need be. “Oh just kiss him already, ain’t like it’s a secret anymore.”

There were some muffled laughs dotted around the room.

Joe turned back to Cisco, eyebrows raised.

Cisco grinned, a little more sincerely now that their first catcaller had been - relatively - supportive. “I mean, cherry danish oughta get me a little something.”

Joe chuckled, but looked over at their heckler. “We’re supposed to be professionals here,” he called out. His eyes went back to Cisco. “So all you get is one.”

Joe reached for the danish bag and used it to tug Cisco in. Cisco leaned down obligingly, and for a moment he got the slip of Joe’s lips against his, and the gentle scratch of his goatee against Cisco’s chin. But it was a quick, perfunctory thing, and Cisco couldn’t stop being aware of their audience enough to remember to look like he enjoyed it.

There were a few wolf whistles, some applause. But a few people booed. “That’s all you got? Heard you were practically humping last night.”

Cisco flushed and dropped into the chair across from Joe’s desk.

Singh’s door opened with a loud bang that sounded like salvation. Immediately silence fell over the room.

He didn’t even look out, his voice just emerged from the doorway. “I’m so glad to see that crime is no longer an issue. Good news, we can all retire. West. What did I tell you about disrupting my squad room?”

Joe slumped, looking exactly like a guy who’d been reamed out by his boss and didn’t want it to happen again. “Not to, Captain.”

“That’s what I thought I told you. Get to work. All of you.”

The door slammed closed again.

Cisco cleared his throat and grabbed his coffee from the desk. “Right. I think the cat’s entirely out of the bag here.”

“I’d say so.” The room was too open and too crowded for them to talk in any kind of code about it, and Joe flashed him a smile. “In hindsight, I’m glad about that.”

“I will not say I told you so, no matter how true that is.” Cisco grinned for the benefit of anyone who might have still been watching. “Now. What are we working on?”

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently Barry didn’t feel any need to come and say hi when he got to the station that morning, which was as worrying as his lack of phone contact the night before. Cisco didn’t think much about it, though. Not obsessively, anyway. Hardly at all.

Maybe Barry didn’t know he was there, maybe that was all it was.

But after an hour of going through police files and seeing absolutely nothing of interest in any of Whitman’s cases, a shadow fell over the desk and Cisco looked up to see the face of his best friend staring down at him.

He instantly looked around for Joe, but he had stepped away. His eyes went back to Barry. He swallowed and sat back. “Hey.”

Barry regarded him. “Hey.”

Cisco’s idea of hell itself was moments of awkwardness where people were looking right at him. He shifted in his chair, shutting the file he was currently looking through. (He’d been more staring into space than reading, to be honest; sitting in one place reading dry case details exacerbated his ADHD.)

Barry only made him contemplate death for a few seconds, though, before he cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

Well, no, that wasn’t better.

Cisco shoved to his feet, though, trying not to sigh or seem disgruntled at all. This was part of the assignment, and that’s all it was. Yes, he had to make his best friend believe he was a liar, but Barry would understand once the truth came out, once this psycho stalker was caught.

He was quiet as he followed Barry up the stairs towards his lab.

This kind of talk...it was nothing Cisco had experience with. Nothing he knew how to manage. His number of previous close friends could be counted on one hand, and for the most part they’d just grown apart or whatever. No big dramatic scenes, no moments navigating through potential betrayals and hurt feelings.

Barry was his first real best friend. He could have used some experience with this sort of thing, damn it. This was the one he least wanted to screw up.

Barry’s lab was deserted, as always, and Cisco looked around in nervous interest. It was a huge space, considering its limited staff, and the hecticness of it was testament to how many different jobs Barry really had to do as a CSI.

But it didn’t hold his interest for very long. The lab changed a little from case to case, as the type of evidence Barry processed changed. But not that much. Eighty percent of his job, even post metas, was fingerprints and DNA. Cisco heard him gripe about it every now and then.

So he looked around for a few seconds, but couldn’t stop being aware of Barry moving around behind him.

He sucked in a deep breath finally and turned to Barry, clearing his throat. Maybe it was best to go on the offensive.

“I’m sorry.”

Barry had reached his desk, and seemed to be as much at a loss for how to start as Cisco was. He turned when Cisco spoke, his eyes wide. But he caught himself a moment later, eyes narrowing again.

Cisco sucked in a breath and straightened his spine. “About what I did to Joe.”

“What you did...?”

“What happened last night was on me. If it ends up hurting him, that’s on me too.” He moved towards the desk, but veered off again to explore a mostly empty countertop near the window. “Kinda surprised he let me off so easy there, considering.”

“He.” Barry blinked. “Because he told you to keep things secret.”

“Well. Asked me. He didn’t whip out his gun and demand it or anything.” He grinned, but it was short-lived. “So. Just so I know...are you upset about the secret or about other things on top of the secret?”

Barry dropped into the chair at his desk, in front of the infamous white board he’d had Evil Wells’ life spread all over once upon a time. “I don’t know?”

“Audible question mark, man.”

“Yeah.” Barry leaned back, his long-ass legs splaying out in front of him, his head tilting back. “Just. Dude.”

“I knew it’d be weird for you, that’s one reason it was pretty easy to keep my mouth shut.”

Barry eyeballed the ceiling long enough that Cisco glanced upward to see if there was something new hanging around up there. “Joe says it started after we stopped Thawne, when I was…”

“Yeah.” His voice went softer without him even having to try. “Rough time.”

“Is that why?”

CIsco blinked, looking at his stretched out bestie for a moment as he tried to formulate an answer. He liked to think he wasn’t the kind of guy who would hook up with someone just because he was lonely. Still, he _had_ been lonely. Pathetically, miserably lonely.

But he thought about Joe, and his answer was easy. “I liked him, okay? Even back then. A lot. I could give you a whole list of reasons, if that wouldn’t be super awkward.”

Barry’s head lifted and turned enough for him to shoot Cisco a considering look, then dropped back into place. “Just no dirty stuff.”

“No way, Joe’d kill me.” Cisco’s smile lasted longer that time. “I mean, he’s hot, though. For one.”

The way Barry’s features shifted signified him making some face or another.

“He is, dude. In a totally shallow way, this is such a win for me. He’s also really strong, and supportive, and caring, and he takes me seriously and laughs at me at the same time, in the best ways.” He smiled faintly. “I probably care about him for a lot of the same reasons you do.”

So far, no lie.

Barry sighed and kept looking at the ceiling, but Cisco knew him and his less-severe-than-Cisco’s-but-still-totally-a-thing ADHD. He’d break soon. Cisco could wait him out.

In the meantime he leaned back against the counter and tried not to think too hard about how little his being a bad liar was actually coming into play here.

Barry sucked in a breath suddenly and looked up. “You went out with Kendra, though.”

“Uh huh?” Cisco answered.

A moment later his breath stuck in his throat and his eyes went wide, realizing why that was a problem.

Barry stared at him hard. “Was that fake? Or were you cheating on him? On both of them?”

“Dude!” Cisco’s level of offense at that was unfeigned. But then he was stuck.

Barry kept right on staring.

Cisco’s throat closed up, nice and timely. God, he couldn’t stand pressure like this. He was shit at coming up with stories on the fly. Joe told him to tell Barry that anything he didn’t have an answer for was just none of his business, but he didn’t think that would fly in this particular case.

His mind was blank. Barry’s expression was getting harder. The assignment was ruined. Joe would never forgive him for not even lasting a solid day.

But then he was rescued by a sudden brain stutter, and his ever-constant lord and savior, Popular Culture.

“We were on a break!”

Barry’s eyebrows did that ‘I’m dubious’ thing that wrinkled his forehead.

Cisco swallowed. “I don’t like talking about it, okay? It was a weird time. I wasn’t lying to anybody, though. Kendra even knows about Joe!”

Damn it, that was the wrong right thing to say. Barry scowled instantly. “Kendra--”

“She knows now! She didn’t know then. Not until after she left the city. Call her and ask!” His voice was getting too high. Barry’s head was still wrinkled.

Emergency happening here.

“You were on a break.”

“Yes.” God, he’d have to text Joe and deal with this. Hopefully Barry wouldn’t make a beeline right over to him to demand confirmation. And Kendra. Damn it.  “It’s not a great memory, okay? _Neither_ of us really like talking about it.”

And suddenly. A miracle happened. Barry hissed out a breath, his eyes getting wide. “Oh, man.”

Cisco blinked.

“That was right around when Francine showed up. I forgot.” Barry’s face melted a little, line vanishing from his forehead and mouth softening. “Joe must have--”

As grateful as he was for the get out of jail free card, Cisco held up a hand and cut him off all the same. “Don’t tell me.”

Barry frowned again.

“Joe doesn’t talk about her a lot,” he explained. “If he wants me to know the full story, he’ll tell me.”

“Oh.” Barry thought that over, and slouched back in the chair all over again. Maybe there was something in his physiology that meant ignoring his spine made it easier to think. “All that stuff you said about Kendra, though. You said you never felt like that about somebody.”

“I wasn’t lying about being into her.” Cisco shrugged. “But maybe some of it was overstatement. I mean, I never felt that way before about anyone that I could _tell_ anyone about.”

Barry’s head lifted a little. “That really sucks. I’m surprised Joe made you do that.”

“He didn’t make me. He asked, I said okay. It’s not like you were around to talk to back when it happened. Besides, these days?” Cisco shrugged. “Secrets don’t feel like that big a deal anymore. Another part of the routine, you know? He had good reasons to want it kept between us. He still might.”

“You think?”

“Well, dude.” Cisco studied him. “ _You’re_ being a little squirrely about it, for one.”

Barry frowned at him, but after a moment his face relaxed and he huffed a breath. “Yeah. I feel pretty squirrely, honestly.”

“Any idea why?”

“Nope. I mean, secrets suck in general, but it’s not like I don’t get it. And you. Of course I want you to be happy, I should be glad you found somebody.”

“But that somebody is Joe.”

“Yeah.” Barry looked over at him and flashed a small, wan smile. “I don’t know, man. I guess I need some time to let it settle.”

Cisco straightened off the side of the counter and returned his smile. “I get that. Just, like, don’t hold it against Joe, okay? He’s gotta be super stressed right now as it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

Joe wasn’t sure he’d ever bitten back laughter so many times in one day before.

At the heart of the matter there was nothing at all funny about all this, and that made fighting back grins easy to do. But god, the sudden interest in his life was hard for him to take in.

Joe had been without much personal life to speak of for so long that there had stopped even being jokes about it floating around the station. People chatted with him about his kids now and then, but that was all he had to offer and they knew not to ask about anything more.

Until now.

It was understandable that people were surprised, he figured, but the sheer level of interest in it all...he wouldn’t have predicted that. Apparently instead of being regarded as just an older guy too boring to have a life, Joe had taken on some kind of man-of-mystery status that was being overwritten now.

It was good, he told himself with every passing question and state, every officer who pulled him into a corner to ask about it, every superior who called down to his desk. This amount of interest was exactly what they wanted, after all. Not only was Joe out now, he was more public and more spotlighted than David Singh and his partner ever were.

Still. Damn.

By the time he was done for the day, he’d gotten ridiculously little actual work done. Even with Cisco there going through files with him the first couple of hours before he headed over to his own job.

Being a public spectacle was absurd.

He headed out of the station on time for once - one advantage to being too sidetracked to get swept up in a case - and headed right for STAR Labs.

This was one tricky aspect of the assignment. His time at STAR was going to have to be limited while there was any chance he was being followed. No more hanging around for hours while Barry did his thing. As far as anyone watching him knew, his lover worked at STAR and that was that. He couldn’t bring a stalker and his fancy digital camera to the lab beyond that.

So this was a strange visit for him. He pulled up and through the wide, weed-infested and ever-vacant employee parking lot, up to the curb by the dusty front doors of the facility, and there he sat. Just a visitor, not comfortable enough to wander in. He shot Cisco a text and stayed looking at his phone, careful to pay no attention to who might be around watching.

After a few minutes Cisco appeared at the front door, looking faintly disconcerted to come out and lock it behind him. He headed to the car, and Joe reached over to unlock the door for him.

“Hey! This is super weird.” Cisco dropped into the passenger seat. “I don’t think we’ve used the main entrance in years.” He grinned over at Joe.

“We don’t want eyes or cameras on any entrance Barry’s gonna use,” Joe answered, returning his smile for the benefit of any audience.

“Truth. You know, we’re gonna have to come up with a reason why you’re avoiding the lab. And why I’m suddenly leaving at a reasonable hour. You know Harry at least is gonna give us crap.”

Joe started the engine. “We don’t have to do this every day; we’re not gonna suddenly be joined at the hip because we’re out. But we need to go over some things. You okay heading back to my place for now?”

“Sure. Turn this song up and I’m all yours.”

Joe smiled in surprise, leaning over and turning up the volume on the CD obligingly. “You a jazz fan?”

“Something you don’t know about me!” Cisco beamed as the car got moving. “But I’m basically a fan of any music, anytime.”

“Ah.” Joe pulled away from the lab, back through the long empty length of the parking lot. “So not a jazz fan? See, when people say ‘any music’ it’s usually a cop-out.”

“Listen, boyfriend.” Cisco huffed out a vaguely affronted breath, then looked down at the stereo as if he’d get some visual clue about the song. He listened for a moment, then grinned. “Ahmad Jamal, right? This is some of the later trio stuff. Nineties.”

Joe whistled, an entirely sincere grin spreading across his face. “I stand corrected. How the hell did you get into jazz?”

“Music lessons as a kid, believe it or not. Dante was turning into a piano wiz and my folks wanted me to focus on more normal things, like him, so they told me to pick an instrument. I went with guitar. The lady that came over and gave lessons was nuts for jazz. I listened to so much Al Di Meola…”

“That’s a good guitarist right there.”

“He’s no Prince, but.” Cisco shrugged, looking out at the road as they maneuvered through afternoon traffic. “So now that my musical knowledge has been given its proper dues, what do we need to go over? Is it the talk with Barry, because I admit I panicked a little there.”

“It’s not the talk with Barry,” Joe said, shooting him a smile. In a way he was pleased at the story Cisco had come up with. Joe hadn’t been thinking any thoughts about reconciling with Francine when she came back, but it would have been a bad time to keep up a secret relationship. Taking a break would have made sense. It would have been rough, especially if Cisco started dating some woman. But obviously they got past it.

Details about _how_ they got past it were just the kind of thing that wasn’t anybody else’s business, so he didn’t think they needed to talk it out beyond that. Rough time for all, enough said.

“It’s actually about this morning, when you got to the station.”

Cisco looked over, eyes wide and curious. “You’re allergic to cherry danish?”

Joe chuckled, pulling them into a left turn that led into his neighborhood. “No food allergies. Guess we should’ve gone over that, too.”

“Me either. Well, I have a dysfunctional relationship with cheese, but we struggle on together anyway. Okay, I give up, what’s the problem?”

“It’s not a _problem_ , but it is something we need to work on.”

Joe hesitated, though, taking them through the last turn to get onto his street, and pulling up to the curb.

“I’m talking about that kiss.”

Cisco’s already-wide eyes went rounder. “Ah.”

Joe shifted in the seat to face him. “Hey, it was a peck, it wasn’t bad or anything. It just...wasn’t natural.”

Cisco squirmed a little. “Right.”

“It’s one thing to be familiar with each other’s histories, it’s another thing to be instantly physically comfortable together. But for the sake of appearances, we can’t have an awkward physical phase. We’ve been together more than a year, that’s enough that touching should be an afterthought, something we take for granted. Not something we hesitate over.”

He glanced around at the empty street around them. Odds were that nobody had both followed them and gotten into position to be watching them closely so fast, but just in case...they didn’t need the case blown by a talented lip-reader.

“Come on, let’s talk about it inside.”

Cisco seemed worryingly skittish as he followed Joe in. He hung behind him until he got the door open, then darted in and through the living room, as if there was something on the fireplace mantle that he suddenly had to get a good look at.

Joe moved in more slowly, watching him with ever-rising eyebrows. He closed the door behind him and eyed Cisco before heading for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

“Is whiskey an option?”

Joe looked back at him.

Cisco grinned, there and gone. “I don’t suppose you keep a stock of Mountain Dew around? Don’t even answer. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

Joe peered for longer than he should have at the couple of bottles of red wine sitting on the counter near the fridge, before pouring two glasses of water and heading back into the living room.

Cisco came to meet him, plucking the glass from his hand with a grin of thanks. “Okay, so. For the record. I haven’t...um.”

Joe moved around him to sit down on the couch. He curved into the corner and peered up at Cisco, waiting.

“I mean I probably should have told you this before this whole thing started, but.” Cisco stared hard at the water in his hand, like it was impeding his thoughts from coming out coherently.

“Out with it, kid.” Joe spoke gently, not quite his interviewing-victims tone but not far from it.

“I mean. The number of people I’ve actually been with before. I can count ‘em on one hand. So. I might just generally be shit at that part of things.”

A moment’s surprise melted into relief, and Joe laughed easily. “That’s the problem? You’re talking to a guy who hasn’t been with anyone in, literally, twenty years. We don’t need to look like sexual wizards here, Cisco, we just need to be more comfortable with each other. Trust me, someone watching us as hard as this guy might be will notice if we aren’t.”

“Ah.” Cisco’s face was touched with red, but he whooshed out a breath and came around to plop on the couch beside Joe.

Joe couldn’t quite read the lingering apprehension on his face or the space he’d left between them. “We’re not talking about doing anything that anyone’s uncomfortable with, let me say that clearly. If you want to draw a line somewhere you tell me, and it’s drawn. We’re both allowed to have limits and I expect us to both speak up if it ever feels like too much.”

“Okay, definitely.” Cisco nodded easily, but it didn’t quite shake the tension from his shoulders. “So do we talk it out or do we need to, like...practice?”

Practice. Joe almost laughed, but nothing came out. It wasn’t like they could talk themselves into being physically comfortable with each other the way two long-term lovers would be. Still, the idea felt incredibly...unprofessional.

He cleared his throat, but lifted an arm over the back of the couch. “How about we compromise? We can talk this out, but let’s practice a little basic contact at the same time.”

Cisco tilted his head, but glanced at Joe’s arm and made an ‘ah’ face. He leaned over at set his drink on the coffee table, and slid in closer to where Joe sat.

He ended up pressed against Joe’s side, Joe’s arm behind his head, their thighs pressed together. For all his twitchiness, Cisco didn’t seem at all uncomfortable being there. He seemed to relax right into it.

Not bad, really. Joe could imagine the two of them killing an evening watching one of Cisco’s ridiculous movies, sitting just like this.

Cisco fit under his arm well. That was an advantage.

“So.” He cleared his throat, shifting unconsciously, settling in to the idea of having someone curled up against him like that. “Everything at STAR okay? I assume you would have mentioned if things had gone down badly there.”

“Oh yeah, you know me, I would’ve whined about it by now. Nah, everything’s cool. Well, Caitlin’s cool, which is what counts. Harry...is…”

“Harry?”

Cisco tilted his head up, looking over at Joe with a smile. “Unfortunately, yes. The whole idea of being closeted really didn’t seem to jive with him. Maybe that’s not a thing on Earth Two. Maybe it’s a blissful utopia where nobody cares who anybody’s sleeping with.” He sighed, dropping his head back against the couch. “Maybe he’s just a dick.”

“I’d put money on the last option, myself.” Joe chuckled. He shifted his arm a little, feeling the tickles of Cisco’s hair along his sleeve.

Cisco huffed an amused breath. “Caitlin wasn’t all that surprised. She said it explained a lot. Weird, right?”

“Huh.” Joe blinked, considering that. Maybe that was Caitlin’s way of showing her support, acting like she’d sensed something all along. It wasn’t like there was anything to explain in he and Cisco’s history together. But if her scientific brain wanted to recategorize past events in a new context, all the better for the assignment.

A shame, really, that Cisco had to lie to her and Harry about all this. If it wasn’t for Barry, and the fact that the lab team spent time with Joe’s family so often, he might not have had to bring them into this.

She would understand it in the end, though. Joe was sure they all would.

“Me and Barry talked, too,” Cisco said suddenly. “He’s being a little Barryish about things, but he’s going to be okay with it.”

Joe frowned, remembering last night’s weirdness. “You sure about that? Sometimes I can’t tell what goes on in that boy’s head.”

“Yeah.” Cisco’s hand drummed against his leg. “You want to know what I think?”

“Sure.”

“I think he’s jealous.”

Joe barked out a laugh in sheer surprise. “What?”

Cisco grinned. He leaned over to grab his water, and squirmed in a little closer when he sat back. “You know, this is kinda cozy. I could get behind doing this every day. But yeah, I’m serious. I mean he’s not jealous as in he wants to hook up with either of us, because. That would be a huge weird ‘wow’ in your case, and in mine…” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think in another life I could’ve had a mile high crush on him, so it’s not so weird for me. But in _this_ life Barry’s all about that Iris, so.”

“Mm.”

Joe felt a strange little twist in his gut at the idea of Cisco and Barry getting together. It would have made sense if it happened. A lot of sense. They were close, they were pretty open about their affection for each other. They were both young, brilliant. Superpowered.

Downright natural, those two getting closer.

He shook that thought away. “So what’s he jealous of?”

“Us. Not envious, I mean he doesn’t _want_ this. Just. He’s worried we might take something away from him. Let’s face it, Barry’s got this abandonment thing that runs pretty deep. Which is totally understandable, considering. I think he’s happiest when the people close to him fit into roles that he feels comfortable dealing with. And something happening between you and me complicates that.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose. He leaned back against the back of the couch, thinking that through.

“See, you’re his dad. Even when Henry was around, you were Barry’s dad and Henry was Barry’s dad. He didn’t have any trouble having two people in the same role, as long as he understood what that role was. Iris...I mean you basically raised them both since Barry was eleven, right? But Barry never saw her as a _sister_ in any way, that’s obvious to anyone who’s ever seen him look at her. It never would have occurred to him to think like that, because her role was always being his best friend who he was totally in love with. That’s it.”

He twisted a little as he went on, gesturing in that frenetic way he always did when he got into a theory. “Me and Caitlin are his support team. Me, I’m his friend on top of that. Already a little complex, and it’s gone bad now and then, but we manage it. Except _now_ …”

“You’re also the guy who’s dating his ‘dad’,” Joe finished. He reached over and plucked the water glass out of Cisco’s hand before his gesturing could spill it, and set it back on the table. “And that puts both of us into a role that has nothing to do with him. If it goes bad--”

“Then he might end up losing one of us in a way he can’t even control, which would be super unfair.” Cisco grinned. “I mean. Look, it’s been like one day since he found out, and I doubt he’s thinking anything like this. He doesn’t even know what his problem is, he told me. But I know Barry, and I figured it’d go weird with him because of this thing he does with people.”

It actually made sense. Joe had never taken the time to consciously psychoanalyze Barry, but anybody who knew him knew how scared he was to lose anyone else close to him. Losing his dad was a blow he was still trying to recover from. If Henry hadn’t been gone for most of his life it might have damn near killed Barry to lose him.

Joe used to understand that about him on a more conscious level. When Barry was a kid it was easier to see the cracks in his confidence. Joe would make sure to assure him outright that nothing he did would ever push Joe away. He lied about his job and how dangerous it was so Barry wouldn’t stay up nights he was working terrified of something bad happening.

But somewhere along the way Barry had grown up, gone off to school, become a man. Joe’s assurances were needed less and less, until he forgot to give them at all.

Maybe it was time to fix that.

He smiled suddenly, looking down at Cisco. “I’m impressed, I’ve gotta say. You’re probably right about him, and odds are he won’t ever realize it.”

“I mean, I’m smart about stuff. You don’t have to look so surprised.”

“Yeah, but Barry’s not some fancy gadget or a movie character, so.”

“Ouch, boyfriend.” Cisco made a face at him, but a moment later he leaned in. His head dropped against Joe’s shoulder. “I actually like to think about people the way I think about movie characters, though. It’s always helped me understand them. Even if I have to invent a backstory or character arc for them that makes them seem less dickish.” He grinned. “I used to sit back and watch the gossip play out at STAR, back when there were actual people there, and it was as good as TV sometimes. Hartley was the villain of the whole piece. One with understandable motivations, but a villain all the same. Super fun.”

Joe’s arm came off the back of the couch almost instinctively, draping over Cisco’s shoulder. “You ever think maybe that’s why you don’t have all that much experience with…” He gestured between them.

“What’s why?”

“Well. If you always think of yourself as audience, it’s harder to get into the action, isn’t it?” Cisco wasn’t the only one who could analyze someone. Joe was a cop, reading people was something he did. “Or is that why you prefer it that way? It’s a lot safer to be a spectator.”

Cisco twisted his head a little to look up at him, but stopped about halfway, looking off towards the window instead. Joe could barely feel the warm puff of his breaths against his shirt.

This was a good idea, sitting like this. Joe could feel the lax warmth of Cisco’s body, which stopped him from getting worried that he’d stepped over some line. And he was quickly getting used to the heat against his thigh, the weight of Cisco’s head against his chest. The easy way Joe’s arm fit around him.

They were forcing this, of course, but still. Damned if it didn’t already feel pretty natural.

Cisco’s hand came out suddenly, dropping palm-up on Joe’s leg. A little spark of tension went through him at the same time.

Joe regarded him for a moment, then stretched his free hand out and rested it over Cisco’s.

Cisco’s fingers slid through his absently as Joe watched. That tension vanished away again.

He drew in a breath suddenly and sighed it out. “I feel like you just called me out, and it’s so unfair. It’s like actively mean, okay?”

Joe chuckled, feeling in Cisco’s relaxed shoulders that he wasn’t actually upset. “Sorry, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” he answered automatically.

His fingers were still cool from the water glass. Rough, too. Joe had noticed that absently during their first walk together, the callouses up and down Cisco’s palm and fingers. An engineer’s hands, he supposed it was to be expected. But it was a little startling. Cisco was this soft-looking guy who grinned and joked like the kid he didn’t want to be called, but his hands were broad, tough from hard work, and had strength in them that Joe wouldn’t have guessed at.

He wondered how his own hand felt. Cop hands had their own callouses, and their own strength.

Funny thing was that this aimless hand-holding felt gentle and careful for all the roughness between them.

Cisco sighed quietly. His fingers tightened around Joe’s. “Is it weird that this feels easier than it would if this was, you know, real? I overthink everything normally.”

Joe smiled. “I’m out of practice. I don’t think I remember how it feels when it’s real.

Cisco snorted quietly. “Yeah, I think everybody at the station this morning could tell we were both not feeling anything deep.”

Joe rolled his eyes, remembering their catcaller. “I don’t care how out of practice I am, I’m never gonna put on some display at the station. They can get their show somewhere else.”

“But still.”

Those words had a sudden volume, and Joe looked down at Cisco.

Cisco cleared his throat, eyes back on the window. “I mean. I’m just saying. As long as we’re practicing stuff…”

Joe frowned, but understood a moment later.

Well. There was some truth to Cisco’s words. They had been pretty stiff and uncomfortable that morning. For the assignment itself, for two people who were just outed to be suddenly the focus of so many eyes, the stiffness fit. So he hadn’t thought much about it.

But if that happened every time they shared a kiss…

Remembering that other kiss, the one that outed them, wasn’t much better. Sure it had been entirely opposite of the second one, but on the other end of the scale. There was no thought or plan behind it, it had just been...wild. And ridiculously unprofessional.

They needed to find a middle ground.

He peered down at Cisco. “You seem pretty uncomfortable with the idea.”

“Un…? Oh, no, no. Just. You know, that whole no-experience thing. I’m not very proud of my lack of game, that’s all.”

Joe rolled his eyes again, but chuckled. “Remember, we’re not measuring skill levels here. We’re just getting used to closeness.”

“Right.” Cisco sucked in a breath and let it out, but lifted from against Joe’s chest and twisted a little awkwardly on the cushion beside him. There he hesitated, looking uncertain. “So. Um.”

“Don’t overthink it. It’s not real, remember? Just practice.” Joe reached out and slid a hand around Cisco’s neck. “Think casual. Think people who’ve been together long enough to get a little stale.”

His eyes went wide and his throat worked as he swallowed, but he nodded and leaned in, holding his breath.

Joe smiled a little - dramatic kid - but moved in to meet him.

There was a thump from the front door, and the sound of a key in the lock.

Cisco jumped, jerking back.

Joe kept his hand where it was, not letting him get too far. He looked over at the door.

A moment later Iris came in, hauling her increasingly-bulky laptop case from work. She shut the door behind her and glanced around absently, until she noticed them.

She stilled, her eyes widening. “Oh. Hi there.”

Joe slipped his arm from Cisco: no use keeping up the act around Iris. “Hey, baby. What are you doing here?”

She came down into the living room and around the couch, dropping the laptop bag on the coffee table. “Wally texted. Apparently he and Barry were trash talking at the lab and, end result, he invited himself into our cooking contest.”

“Wally’s cooking dinner?”

She smiled. “Jerk chicken and rice. He says his...he says _mom_ had a great recipe.”

Joe sat back, huffing a breath. “Her mother’s people came from just outside of Kingston. Used to say I just married her for the in-law dinners.”

Iris’s smile went softer. “I didn’t know that.”

She didn’t know a lot about Francine, really. And Joe wasn’t sure how much Wally knew about his mom before he was born. Joe needed to change that.

But this was probably not the best time. He glanced over at Cisco, who was now firmly on the other side of the couch. “Want to stay for dinner?”

His eyes seemed unusually wide. “Um. No. Thanks.” He pushed up off the couch and grinned at Iris, wide and tight. “I should probably let family be family right now, don’t you think? Some other time. Hi, Iris.”

She peered at him with the same bemusement Joe felt. “Hi, Cisco. How’s everything?”

“Good! You know, same old same old. Aside from the massive sudden life changes, of course.”

“Sure.” Her eyes narrowed. “We should have coffee sometime,” she said, in that this-is-not-a-request tone she got when she was ordering Joe to put down the salt shaker at dinner. “You know. Talk.”

“Sure, that’s not intimidating at all.” He grinned that same strange grin, backing away from them. “Okay! So. West kids are gathering, I should probably…” He jerked a thumb towards the door. “Yep. Good talk, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow. Iris. Coffee. Sometime. Looking totally forward to it.”

Joe and Iris watched him make his way to the door and all but flee outside. Iris’s eyes went to Joe.

He shrugged, laughing. “I don’t even know about that kid.”  

“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Wow. How’s it going, though? So far?”

Joe fished into his pocket and dug out his car keys, and considered the question. “It’s...easier than I expected. And harder.” He sighed and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m hoping to catch the look on Cisco’s face when he remembers he didn’t drive himself here.” He flashed his keys, and her laugh followed him out the front door and after his oddly skittish ‘lover’.

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you mean, you ‘fled’?”

Cisco buried his head against his pillow, cramming the phone up to his ear. “I panicked. I took off. Then I got to the sidewalk and my car wasn’t there and I turned and he’s standing there with his keys just smiling at me like my idiocy is super cute.”

“That would be accurate.” Kendra’s smile was more than obvious in her voice. “Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I think I pointed fingerguns before I hit the door. Actual non-ironic fingerguns.”

She burst into laughter.

He groaned into his pillow.

“Aw, come on, look on the bright side. He’s stuck with you no matter what, right? So you have time to make up for any awkwardness.”

He paused, and flopped over onto his back. “That’s true. And, I mean, things were going pretty well up until then. It’s been almost perfect, actually. People I never met before know and gossip about my presumed sex life, which is so Hollywood. Once Barry gets his head out of his ass it’ll be great.”

“Barry? Barry’s being weird about it?”

“Oh yeah, hey, that reminds me. He asked if I was cheating on Joe when I was dating you, which…”

“Rude,” she said.

“Right? But yeah, the cover story I blundered into was that Joe and I were on a break then and you know about him now and you’re super cool with it. So. If he calls you or anything…”

“He’s not gonna call me, Cisco. I’ve barely ever spoken to the guy. You need to relax.”

He sighed, looking up at his ceiling. “I feel like a fraud.”

There was a brief pause.

“Um. Bad news.”

“I know, I know, I _am_ a fraud and that’s the whole point. But no, I mean. I had this whole theory about why Barry’s being weird about it, but what if I’m wrong? What if he just can’t understand why his amazing awesome supercop dad-type-person is going out with his idiot friend who wore the same t-shirt three times last week because I was really really in a Gamera mood and I didn’t have time to sit down and watch one of the movies so--”

“Cisco. Breathe.”

He breathed.

“Listen to me, okay?”

He nodded, then made a faint sound when he realized nodding wasn’t effective phone communication.

“You remember that time you and me actually literally dated for real?”

“Vaguely,” he answered, already smiling a little bit.

“Mm hmm. Well, take it from someone who has been on the other side of dating you: you’re adorable, and brilliant, and thoughtful, and none of those things are particularly difficult for people to see. Nobody is going to wonder why Joe is dating you. I promise.”

He wanted to argue, but she didn’t give him enough time.

“Now, I’m going to give you some advice, okay? And I want you to take it. Don’t piss off ancient hawk goddesses.”

“Is that the advice?”

“No, baby, that’s a threat. Here’s the advice: tomorrow dress up a little nicer than usual. No _Gamera_ , whatever the hell that is.”

“Oh, your nerd cred just took such a hit.”

“I’ve survived worse things. And I’m serious. You don’t need a suit and tie or anything, just...one step above usual. Take some time getting ready. Oh, maybe pull your hair up. Then go to the police station or wherever and tell your fake man that you’re buying him dinner to make up for today.”

Cisco sat up, glancing towards his exploded mess of a closet. “Then what?”

“I’m gonna let you take it from there. Just trust me on this. What you need most right now is a confidence boost, so. Look sharp, ask out a man who can’t say no, and feel good about it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“West, in here.”

That was becoming a familiar call across the squad floor. Joe pushed up from his chair and dragged his feet a little, earning a few sympathetic grimaces from officers he passed.

Singh wasn’t alone in his office. It took Joe a second to recognize Lieutenant Duke, from Robbery, standing over by his desk.

Singh nodded for him to shut the door behind him. “Joe, the lieutenant here is going to be manning my desk for the next few days. Brian, you’ll find most of your headaches will come from this guy right here.”

“Hey,” Joe protested faintly, even as he approached and shook the lieutenant’s outstretched hand. “Me being saddled with metahuman cases isn’t my fault.”

“Uh. Yeah. It is. Since you seemed to go out of your way to get tangled up in them before the assignment became official.”

“Don’t worry, Joe, what the Captain here sees as a headache most of the rest of us think is pretty damn impressive.” Duke smiled easily.

He was young for a lieutenant, visibly younger than Joe, which would have stung if Joe had ever been the type to pursue advancement. He wasn’t; he liked his job now too much to ever try for a promotion.

Young, though, maybe mid-thirties. Dark eyes, dark hair, sharp jaw. Good looking guy, really. Charming, judging by the angle of that smile.

Everything Joe had heard about Duke had been good. Robbery’s numbers had gone up when he took over, and most of his guys were more than happy to stay working under him. He seemed nice enough. From what Joe could remember, Singh had scratched Duke’s name off their list of possible undercover partners because he was engaged to be married. No bad vibes there.

Still, Joe was fairly paranoid these days. Robbery had been Whitman’s department, and a person could hide a lot behind a charming smile.

Then again, there was no way a lieutenant in a busy department of a busy precinct would ever have enough time to methodically stalk a person, even someone working under him.

“You see if you still think it’s impressive when you get handed the first stack of paperwork from one of these disasters,” Singh said dryly, moving around behind his desk. A lot of his personal things had been removed, stuffed into a drawer most likely, to get it out of the temporary replacement’s way.

Joe had a little twinge of discomfort seeing that, but no different than the rare other times Singh had taken time off and someone else had come in to run things.

Singh huffed out a breath suddenly and nodded out the office window. “Here comes the other headache Joe’s causing me lately.”

Joe followed his gaze over, unsurprised to see Cisco moving through the room to hover around Joe’s desk.

Unsurprised, but he looked for a few moments longer than he needed to.

The kid had cleaned himself up a little. His normal jeans or cords had been replaced by light grey slacks, and instead of a t-shirt he wore a black button-down shirt. It was untucked, with the sleeves rolled up halfway and the first couple of buttons hanging open, but that fit. If he’d been wearing a tie Joe would have started worrying.

He'd even pulled his hair up, into a messy bundle at the back of his neck.

He looked...good. Really good. Joe didn’t get that instant _kid_ vibe off him, which was refreshing. He also looked a little more comfortable in his own skin than he had the day before, when he’d gone tearing out of Joe’s house so nervously.

“--what I mean. Joe?”

He blinked and looked away from the window.

Singh and Duke were watching him with matching smirks.

Joe flushed warm. “What was that, sir?”

Singh rolled his eyes but gestured at the door. “Go. If Mr. Ramon has no actual work to do get him out of here. Kid’s a nuisance lately.”

Since Joe knew that was for Duke’s benefit he didn’t bother protesting. He just nodded over at Duke. “Good to be working with you, lieutenant.”

“Brian,” Duke responded easily. “At least when we’re in here.”

“Brian.” Joe nodded once and headed for the door.

Cisco straightened off the desk as he approached. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself. What’s up with this?” He gestured at Cisco’s clothes.

“Laundry day. I almost didn’t want to leave the house at all, I'm a mess.”

“You're really not,” Joe answered easily.

Cisco blinked, then grinned. “Noted.”

“Singh’s replacement for the next week is in there. Seems like a good guy, but who knows.” Joe moved around Cisco and dropped into his chair. “I’m supposed to get rid of you for now, so he can keep up hard-assed appearances. What’s your plans for the day?”

“Eh, I have to get to the lab. Harry’s getting grouchy that I’m not around as much for him to harass. But. Um.” He shifted a little, hip dropping back against the edge of the desk. “Dinner. Is a thing that happens.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “Every night, for the fortunate among us.”

“Yep. And tonight it should totally happen again.”

He smiled suddenly. “You asking me to dinner?”

“Hey, what a great idea. My treat. And in return you will never bring up my behavior yesterday ever again.”

Joe laughed. “Bribery. I accept.”

“Great.” Cisco beamed openly, pushing off the desk. “I’ll text you the where and when and all that.”

Joe hadn’t bothered to see if anyone was close enough to overhear them, but just in case, he added, “You know, we’re a little past the point of asking each other out.”

Cisco’s brow wrinkled, then smoothed out again. He went a little still, like he was consciously resisting the urge to look and see who was listening in. “I like reliving the anxiety of the early days now and then, what can I say?”

“Uh huh. See you tonight, then.”

Cisco half-turned away, then turned back to Joe. He was still smiling, but his jaw was suddenly a little more set. He took a step in closer to Joe’s chair, leaned down, and kissed him. It was light and quick, but he was smiling into it, and smiling when he pulled away. “Later.”

Joe shot him a mildly reproving look as he left, since Cisco knew his position on PDAs at work. But he didn’t pull it off for more than a second before his own smile returned.

A minute later, before Cisco could even have been in the van and on the road, Joe’s phone chimed a text.

_ >Practice. 0:-) _

Joe rolled his eyes, but sent back ‘ _Definitely better’_ before putting his phone away and turning his focus, finally, to the work he had gotten so behind on the day before.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ramon, if you’re not going to focus why do you even bother showing up?”

Cisco looked up from his phone and made a face at Harry’s back. “If anyone actually paid me for all the overtime I put into this place the lab would be bankrupt by now, so stuff it.”

Harry muttered to himself, twisting a screwdriver extra hard into the Earth Two Reverb visor he was attempting to adjust the frequency on. “Then if you’re going to keep on slacking off, ask West why he hasn’t come here to face us since your little revelation the other day.”

Cisco blinked. He shoved his phone in his pocket and moved around the work counter to where Harry had set up. “First of all, I wasn’t texting Joe.” He’d been texting Kendra to tell her what a genius she was. Kendra, it turned out, already knew that. “Second of all, what do you mean, ‘face’ you? Last I checked he doesn’t owe anyone here anything.”

Harry humphed out a breath, leaning in closer to the goggles as Cisco reached him. “So why is he avoiding the place?”

“He’s _busy_ , he just took on a bunch of extra cases from Robbery, and...what do you care?”

Harry straightened all at once, slamming the screwdriver flat on the steel work counter hard enough to make Cisco jump. He glared at Cisco with real heat in his eyes.

“I came back here for one reason: to get Garrick home. For that I need one thing that I don’t have on Earth Two: a meta who can open portals to other dimensions. But you have been sidetracked and flat-out absent since I arrived. You’re _wasting my time_ , Ramon.”  

Cisco had backed up a couple of steps unconsciously, surprised in a way that made his heart beat faster. Harry hadn’t been that outright angry at him since his early days on this earth. It wasn’t a time Cisco particularly wanted to revisit.

But he squared his shoulders and glared back at him all the same, because to hell with that. “In that case you should be glad Joe isn’t around to distract me more.”

“And I would be if I didn’t wonder just what that says about him.” Harry’s eyes flashed, fiery for all their blue coldness. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to pick me up some lunch, and after I eat and we get back to work you are going to be focused and helpful, at least as much as you are capable. We are going to send Jay Garrick home and I am going back to my daughter and my world, and we will hopefully never have to see each other again. Sound good?”

Cisco would have protested being Harry’s errand boy, but right then an excuse to get away from him for a while wasn’t something he’d pass up. “Right now that sounds perfect,” he snapped back, turning on his heel and marching to the door.

He didn’t get it. Harry had been so much better since he got back to his earth. Even before that, after they got Jesse back and he and Cisco were working together so often to stop Zoom. Things had been _good,_ even. Cisco hadn’t contacted him often on his earth, but when he had Harry had been downright friendly.

He hadn’t seemed all that bad when he first arrived this time around, either. Grouchy because of Jay, but nothing like this.

Okay, maybe he had a point that Cisco was a little distracted now, and had been spending a couple of hours here and there at the station instead of the lab.

And he left early the day before.

Ugh, if there was anything worse than a pissed off Harry Wells it was a pissed off Harry Wells who had a legitimate point.

“Ramon?”

He was in the corridor by then, but he paused and looked back through the doorway. “What?”

“You look,” Harry grabbed the screwdriver and scowled at the goggles, “ridiculous. You know that, right?”

Cisco looked down at himself, his old but barely-worn job interview slacks and button down shirt he’d put on in an attempt to follow Kendra’s advice-slash-order.

He felt heat rising to his face, but he resisted the urge to tug self-consciously at the clothes he was so unaccustomed to. He turned back without bothering to answer, tromping down the corridor and ignoring the sound of things hitting walls back in his workroom, as Harry hopefully blew off the rest of this lousy temper of his.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey!” Joe hurried to reach the table, already running late for this dinner thanks to an arrest on one of Whitman’s cases running long. “Eventful day?”

Cisco looked up from his phone and smiled, but it seemed a little drawn. “Um. Not really? Lab work. Barry caught a couple of wannabes trying to hold up an ice cream shop of all places, though you probably know about that already. But that’s about it.”

Joe sat down across from him. “That’s it? Nothing wild? You changed clothes,” he explained when Cisco’s brow furrowed in question.

Cisco looked down at himself and plucked at the t-shirt under his hoodie absently. “Oh. Nah, just. Laundry got done. You know how it is.”  

Joe couldn’t help a fond grin as he settled in and grabbed a menu. “Only you would change _out_ of the nice clothes to go out on a dinner date.”

“Yeah, well. The nice clothes aren’t really me.”

There was a note that sounded like legitimate grouchiness in his voice, and Joe blinked across at him in surprise. “Hey, doesn’t matter to me what you wear. If I had my choice I’d wear jeans all the time too.”

Cisco peered at him. After a moment he smiled, shoulders loosening. “I mean you must like the t-shirts if you were so into me you just _had_ to make a move last year.”

“Damn right.” Joe returned the smile, glad to see that weird grouchiness starting to crack. “But I won’t knock getting a different view now and then. Black suits you.”

Cisco’s smile grew into a wide, preening grin. “It does, huh?”

“Oh my god.” Joe rolled his eyes, stifling a laugh. “Where’s the waitress? I’m gonna need a drink.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, so let me ask you something.”

“Uh oh.” Joe grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over his arm as they headed for the door. Good meal, good talk, and now they were both more relaxed than they were when they got there.

Cisco stuck by his side as they stepped out into the cool air. “Nothing bad, just. You don’t have a partner.”

Joe glanced over at him.

“At work, I mean. I was thinking about that today when you were talking to Singh. There’s somebody at Eddie’s old desk, but he doesn’t work with you.”

“Oh.” Joe shook his jacket out and slipped it on. The nights were definitely getting colder. “No, no partner. Not since Patty left.”

“Isn’t that against some kind of rules? You’re not supposed to go out alone, are you?”

He hesitated, but nodded down the sidewalk. “Come on. Walk me to my car.” He’d had to park a block down thanks to getting there late on a busy Friday night. “Technically, yeah, it’s against the rules. But it’s complicated.”

“Oh yeah?” Cisco moved in close as they moved slowly away from the restaurant. “Why?”

Joe slipped an arm around to his back, pleased when Cisco didn’t tense in surprise even for a moment. “Cops are superstitious.”

“Ooookay?”

He wanted to smile, but this answer was less amusing than Cisco probably anticipated. “When a guy loses two partners to bullets, and a third works with him for six weeks before up and leaving the job entirely, people end up not wanting to go out into the field with him.”

“What?” Cisco stopped dead on the sidewalk, turning to him. “What happened with Eddie wasn’t your fault!”

“It wasn’t. I’d like to hope Chyre wasn’t either, and Patty made the choice that was best for her. But consider how it looks from the outside.”

Cisco’s face clouded in outrage. “That’s...you’re a _hero!_ You’re like the John McClane of the CCPD, and other cops are _avoiding_ you?”

Joe smiled faintly. “Look at that, a reference I understand. People tended to get shot around John McClane, remember.” He held up a hand to cut off Cisco’s sputter of response. “Every cop on the job wants to get home at night, more than anything else. Doesn’t matter if I’m on the news or in the papers or helping The Flash take down evil metahumans. Two people who went out in the field with me never came home. The third got kidnapped by evil metahumans twice and gave up police work entirely.”

“But!” Cisco gaped at him, and fixed his eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them as if he needed to formulate a response strong enough.

“Come on.” Joe looped his arm around Cisco’s back again and got them moving. “It’s not worth getting mad about. I’d probably be just as hesitant about working with a guy with my record as the rest of the department is.”

He wasn’t about to admit it out loud, but the outrage darkening Cisco’s face was a little gratifying. Joe wasn’t lying - he did understand why he wasn’t top choice to be anyone’s partner, and he would defend those other cops against anyone who argued - but he couldn’t keep from feeling some type of way about it all the same. He was a damn good cop, and he was in danger going out there alone. He didn’t want to shoulder all the responsibility for things going south so often.

It wasn’t something he could really talk to anyone about, either. If he mentioned it to Singh, Singh would force the issue, assign him someone who didn’t want to be there. If he said something to his kids...Iris would just worry more, Barry would feel needlessly guilty about his part in it all. And hell, Wally would probably start showing up whenever Joe got called out, reckless brave kid that he was.

It was strange to talk about it out loud, and oddly rewarding to see Cisco’s anger and realize he wasn’t alone in being upset about it.

Still, he stroked his hand down Cisco’s back soothingly. “Eventually someone will transfer in with the right experience and enthusiasm, and Singh will pair them up with me. Meantime, I’ve got The Flash, right?”

Cisco hummed. “And Vibe, for all the good that’s done anyone so far.”

Joe smiled down at him, feeling suddenly fond and warm. “Makes me feel like I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

His smile faded a moment later, as he looked ahead to his waiting car. He squinted out at it, feeling a small instinctive burst of apprehension, though he had no idea at first why.

He never ignored that feeling, though. He stopped on the sidewalk, arm sliding off Cisco. “Stay here,” he said quietly.

“What? Why?”

Joe stepped off the curb and around to the driver’s side, looking sharply at the dark interior of the car, knowing how easy it was for someone to hide in a big backseat at night. He reached out and tried the handle, but the car was still locked. No scratches around the keyhole, and it wasn’t the kind of lock you could jimmie with a coat hanger down the window.

Maybe it was nothing.

“Joe?”

He straightened and looked over at Cisco.

He had come in a little closer but was still on the sidewalk. His phone was in his hand, just in case. He pointed at the car. “What’s that?”

Joe followed the angle of his finger to the windshield, and moved around to see a square of flat white held underneath the windshield wiper.

He let out a breath. If he’d been that paranoid over someone sticking a flyer under his wiper…

He peeled it off and looked down at it.

His relief vanished. He looked around them instantly, but the street had its share of restaurants and shops and was pretty active even this late. Nobody with any sense would have been lurking around the shadows. And whoever this was, they were good enough to be somewhere Joe wouldn’t be able to spot, watching every move.

Cisco moved off the curb and around to Joe. “What is it?”

Joe hesitated, but held it up so he could see it.

The picture had been taken sometime in the last two hours. Taken from right inside the restaurant, from somewhere near their table.

Printed right off someone’s fancy digital camera and left on Joe’s car like a gift.

Their table was framed squarely in the center. Joe had been caught in a laugh, and Cisco with that proud grin he tended to get when Joe laughed at his foolishness. The lighting was rich and warm, everything perfectly focused.

Would have been a pretty nice picture if not for the jagged X someone had carved out of it. Right over Joe’s laughing face.

“Holy crap,” Cisco breathed out. He huddled in a little closer to Joe, looking around them in sudden apprehension.

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. He slipped an arm back around Cisco without thinking much about it, lowering the picture and following his gaze out towards the thick shadows and the moving of cheerful people around them.

Looked like things had just gotten very real.

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this! Next chapter is where the majority of the plot drama kicks in, this one is a pointless yet mostly happy chapter that I just personally enjoyed writing. (Also, this is jossed now that we've seen Cisco's apartment on the show, but since this story is set in a Flashpointless universe, I ain't sweating it. You can take my 'Cisco is not independently wealthy' headcanon away from me when the show bothers to address just how Cisco and Caitlin even earn an income these days.)

“What do you think it means?” 

There was a long pause in his ear, then a huff of air as David sighed. “Any number of things, and I don’t like any of them. With Whitman, and so far with me, this guy’s been limiting himself to letters. I wasn’t supposed to know that he was watching me. He hasn’t given me any reason to think that yet, and with Whitman that wall display was the first indication he gave him.” 

“So with me he’s coming right out of the gate.” 

“It could be you’ve been on his radar since that first dinner with me and Rob. But even then...this seems like escalation, Joe.” 

“Yeah.” Joe sat back against his couch, shutting his eyes for a long moment. “Because we made this such a public thing?”

“Who knows. Maybe he’s frustrated that Whitman listened to him and left, and I’m out of his reach. Maybe because you were public, and the station’s buzzing nonstop about you. Maybe he’s just escalating naturally. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

“Because if he’s escalating his timeline, he might be escalating in other ways,” Joe finished.

David hummed his agreement. “I’m coming back.” 

“David.” 

“You took this on for me, Joe, I’m not going to leave you hanging alone.” 

“What difference would it make?” Joe replied, not harsh. “If I’m seen at the station reporting to you, he might just target both of us. We’re both on his radar already. Take your week, David. You know you both need it. Besides, as far as I should know right now, that picture is just a picture. A one time thing, some jerk getting his kicks threatening someone.”

“It’s still different. I don’t like different.” Another sigh. “Be careful. That’s an order, Joe. And you call me the minute you hear from this guy again.” 

“You got it.” Joe smiled faintly. “How’re the in-laws?” 

“Oh god.” This time he groaned, loud and sincere. “Rob’s parents have always been decent to me. Some of his extended family, though…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s been interesting. I get to see a whole new side of Rob. Not necessarily a nice side, but a good one all the same.” He humphed out a breath. “You learn a lot about someone from their reactions to their family’s crap.”

“Mm.” Joe thought about Cisco suddenly, out of nowhere. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that the Ramon family was most likely not going to be a factor through this assignment. It would have been interesting, seeing how he interacted with his own people. 

But all in all it was probably for the best that it wouldn’t even come up. Things already felt too complicated too fast. 

 

* * *

 

There were times when Cisco looked at something from just the right angle, an invention or an equation or a blueprint or anything at all really, and suddenly the clouds parted and he understood something about it that he hadn’t before.

Sometimes, rarely, people were like that. Cisco wasn’t bad at reading people, for the most part, so generally there wasn’t much confusion that needed to be cleared up. He hadn’t needed a change of angles to make sense of Hartley Rathaway, or the countless guys just like him Cisco had met through his life. He didn’t need careful consideration to know that Barry was going to be his best friend through just about everything. Including the current weirdness. 

He didn’t need a close look to know that Joe West and his kids were singularly remarkable people. 

But when he walked into Jitters and spotted Iris scrolling through her phone with a cup steaming in front of her, he had a moment’s revelation:

The Wests, as a family, intimidated the hell out of him. In the nicest, most friendly way possible. 

It wasn’t just Joe and his boundless love for his kids, it was the kids, too. Iris had always been ferociously open-minded about everything she’d seen since becoming a part of the team. She was smart: more quick-thinking than Cisco and Caitlin, even after all their practice, when Barry was out there in danger and they were in his ear. 

She was funny, and she appreciated - mostly - when Cisco was funny back at her, which was a rarer thing. It went without saying that she was the kind of beautiful that made people double-take on the sidewalk. Cisco had seen it happen, with a stifled feeling of relief that he’d had nine months to adjust to Iris and the sunshine she carried with her even when she was grieving and visiting Barry in his coma. 

It wasn’t hard at all to see why Barry was so utterly in love with her. Cisco sometimes worried he was halfway there himself. But he wasn’t, and that was what he realized as he headed to the counter to order his own coffee before he joined her. 

She didn’t make his gut churn because he had Barryish feelings for her. It was, thankfully, something more pure than that. 

Iris was warm, caring, accepting and loyal to the people she loved, and Cisco wanted badly to be one of those people. That was all. He didn’t want her to be in love with him - she and Barry, nobody was ever going to get between those two now that they’d gotten onto the same wavelength, and Cisco would have been the first to fight anyone who tried - but he wanted her to love him. 

The Wests and Barry, they had always been the kind of family Cisco had never had. They had the kind of unconditional love for each other that Cisco always figured was just a myth. And if they cared about you, they opened up and drew you into that same love. Cisco craved that. 

He thought, for the most part, that he already had it. Certainly Joe and Iris had some pretty open affection for him. But most of that was because of the role he played in helped Barry. He wanted it to be for his own sake. 

If Iris West could think of him as family, then his failure with his own family wouldn’t be so bad. Would it?

By the time he got to the table and set his cup down across from her, he was a mass of wistfulness. 

The bright smile that spread across her face when she looked up at him didn’t much help. 

“Hey! I didn’t see you come in.”

He slid into the seat and huffed a breath, shoving down at his annoying inner monologue and grinning back at her. “I’m sneaky.”

“I’m told I have you to thank for my dad’s burst of honesty about what’s going on with you two,” she said, sliding her phone a few inches from her and taking up her tea instead.

He shrugged, tapping his too-hot coffee mug with restless fingers. “Ish. I only told him what it was painfully obvious he wanted to hear.” 

Her smile somehow seemed to warm up even more. “Well. Dad’s been good at ignoring that particular want for a while now, so any outside help is appreciated.” She regarded him. “Seems like you’re gonna get a close-up look at how he operates. Don’t be surprised if you occasionally have to bully him into doing good things for himself.” 

“If you’re hoping I’m gonna make sure he eats his veggies and doesn’t rot his brain with TV…”

Iris laughed. “I do know you, Cisco. I’m not expecting miracles. You’ll be a bad influence on him in some ways.” She smiled. “But good, too. You have been for a while now.” 

He smiled at that, surprised, his face warming. “You think so?”

“You make him laugh. Dad…” She let out a breath. “He’s the warmest man, I swear, but he doesn’t have many friends outside of work, and now the STAR Labs group, which, let’s face it, is work. He’s always been focused on being a dad more than anything. And I appreciate that, don’t get me wrong. Barry’d tell you the same thing. And Wally...I bet losing Francine would have affected him so much worse if dad hadn’t been there to try and fill some gaps.” 

Cisco smiled, that wistfulness sliding right through him again. “I always thought…” He clutched his coffee, feeling awkward saying this out loud. “You guys are such a happy family. Which, I mean, is pretty remarkable in general, but considering what you’ve all been through…” 

She made a face, but nodded. “Dad has always made sure that we were secure in what we had, so it was always....not easier, but maybe less devastating, when we lost something outside of that. If that makes sense.” 

It did make sense. Conceptually. 

Cisco had always been the opposite. Well, not always, there were probably a few years of security when he was a child. But since he was old enough to really feel it, he’d had nothing to count on in terms of security and support. 

He’d created his own versions out of whatever he could. And the loss of any of those had hurt him pretty badly. 

During a dark time in college, utterly on his own and surrounded by crowds he wasn’t welcome to be part of, he’d cried for like two days solid because of the awful Lost finale and Heroes being cancelled. It was a one-two punch, and he simply didn’t have enough going for him to handle the loss of two hours of escape a week. 

Good times.

Iris watched him, quiet, but went on after a moment when he didn’t say anything. 

“Anyway, he’s different with you than with anyone else at the lab. He likes you. Weird as this whole thing is, I’m glad you’re the one he’s going to be spending all this time with.” 

Me too, Cisco very nearly replied. He caught himself, luckily, and cleared his throat to stifle those words. “It’s totally cool, I’m like a real cop now. I’ve been hanging out at the station and everything. Being all...coppish, and whatnot.” 

Iris laughed, but there wasn’t anything mocking in the sound. “That would be something to see.” 

“You sound dubious. I’m hurt.” 

“Drink more coffee, you’ll be alright.” 

Cisco grinned and obeyed, swinging the cup in an air toast and taking a deep too-hot-for-this swallow. 

Iris watched him, eyes still bright with amusement. “So let me ask you something.” 

He raised his eyebrows as he considered the searing brew he was trying to pretend wasn’t setting his tongue on fire. “Mm?”

“How long have you actually had a thing for my dad?” 

The coffee shot down smoothly, so that was a blessing. 

Iris regarded him with the most deceptively mild curiosity on her face.

“What now?” It was the coffee making his voice high like that, not...anything else.

She set her tea down, the same easy grace in her gestures that she usually seemed to have. 

“I adore my dad, Cisco. Let me say that outright. He makes me furious. He lies, he gets overprotective, he sometimes needs reminding that I’m not seven and scared of the dark. But I adore him. Which means that I tend to approve of other people adoring him, because, really, everyone ought to. So it’s okay with me.”

“In my experience,” Cisco answered, his voice only a little ragged, “it’s not as easy as that.” 

She shrugged. “But it is. The feelings are easy, anyway. It’s what you do with them that can make things complicated.” 

He laughed, wry. “So signing up for an undercover assignment like this?” 

“That...seems complicated,” she allowed. 

He didn’t bother trying to deny any of it. It was too late for that, for one thing, and the warmth in her eyes was something he couldn’t consider lying to. Really, he wasn’t sure how Joe and Barry had the fortitude to do it for so long. 

“You know what really sucks?” he said, setting his cup down and scrubbing at his face absently. “I had to kiss him in front of a bunch of cops to out us...” 

“That sucks?” She seemed amused.

He groaned into his hands. “I’ve never been kissed like that before in my life.” 

Her eyes got wider. She cleared her throat. “Oh.” 

“Yeah.” He grinned suddenly. “I mean, he says it’s been awhile since he’s been with anyone. But whatever he learned back in the day, it must be like riding a bike, ‘cause damn.”

“I get it, Cisco, thanks.” 

“The tongue on that man--” 

“Okay!” She laughed despite the strength of her objection, holding up both hands in surrender. “You win. Dad is a bad thing to tease you about, I get it.” 

His victory grin didn’t last more than a couple of seconds. He sighed and gripped his cup again. 

And maybe he was just really blatant, or maybe she was really perceptive, but her eyebrows lifted and her laughter died down. “Ohhh, I see.” 

He nodded. “Things were bad enough when he was just the hot cop I never stood a chance with.” 

“Hmm.” She took up her tea, sipping, eyes staying on him thoughtfully. 

He fell quiet, waiting as she considered the matter. If there was some sound piece of advice out there for him, Iris West would know it. She probably would have told him not to volunteer for this in the first place. That was the kind of logic he needed more of in his life. 

But he wasn’t all that surprised when she simply sighed, shot him a sympathetic look, and had another sip of tea without saying a word. 

He sent her an innocent smile to cover his disappointment. “Since we’re doing the small talk thing...when are you and Barry planning to tell us you hooked up?” 

She didn’t spit out her tea like he was almost hoping, but her eyes got big enough as she swallowed to make him feel like he got proper revenge.

 

* * *

 

“West.” 

There were a few muffled snickers around the floor as Singh’s door opened and closed again with that one word. 

“Some things never change, huh, Joe?”

He answered that shout with a quick and not particularly polite gesture as he headed for Singh’s office. 

The fact that it wasn’t Singh there waiting for him was going to take some getting used to. But as usual when Singh took a few days off, Joe planned to get used to it right around the time David actually came back. 

Lieutenant Duke was moving around to sit as Joe came in. He gestured at one of the chairs positioned in front of the desk. Bitch chairs, they were nicknamed, since Singh never specifically invited anyone to sit unless they were in for a reaming. 

Duke seemed amiable enough as he sat, though, so Joe took a seat a little less stiffly than he would have if it was David. 

“Joe. You’re the new Whitman, aren’t you?” 

Joe sat up, tensing unconsciously. “Sir?” 

“Brian, I told you.” Duke shot him that charming smile that probably got him a lot of pretty-boy ribbing when he was still in uniform. “Major Crimes took a whole pile of Whitman’s cases. They all went to you, right?” 

“Oh. Yes, sir. Brian. The ones Robbery didn’t keep.” 

“My boys are slammed, so we’re glad for the help. Whitman was mine, Joe, you can’t blame me for being curious about how things are going. Must be boring stuff for a Major Crimes metahuman expert.” 

Joe scoffed faintly. “No expert, just the one saddled with the headache.”

“A lot of guys around here are pretty jealous of that headache.” Brian’s smile took on a wry edge. 

Joe returned it. “A lot of guys around here should know better than to wish for excitement on this job.” 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Duke sat back, drumming a pen against the desk in a way that reminded Joe, strangely, of Cisco. “Strange thing, losing him so suddenly. Whitman, I mean. Usually when I lose a guy I’ve got some warning.”

Joe had to focus on his breathing, remind himself that it wasn’t at all unusual for a superior officer to be curious about a good detective up and quitting. “Can’t help you there,” he said casually. “I might’ve met him once or twice, but not so I’d remember. I don’t mix with your guys very often.”

“Gossip spreads beyond departments, Joe, you’ve been here long enough to know that.” 

_Longer_ _than_ _you_ , Joe knew better than to answer out loud. “I’m not a big fan of gossip, Brian,” he answered evenly, even throwing in a sardonic little half-smile. “Been on the other side of it a couple of times now, that’s enough to make me stay away. The guys around here all know better than to even try and bring gossip to me.”

“That’s admirable.” Duke sighed and sat back. “Gotta tell you, I like this chair and this office. We all know nobody’s ever getting Singh out of here, the man’s the best, but I want this for myself someday. The southside precinct has a captain retiring next year. Could be mine, if I play my cards right. And if my detectives stop packing up and changing states.” 

Joe laughed after a moment, relaxing into his chair. It definitely wasn’t unusual for superiors to be curious about their men leaving if they had a self-serving motivation behind that curiosity. He’d rather deal with an overly-ambitious temporary boss than a possibly evil one anyday.

“I’m sure Whitman would write you a good recommendation, wherever he ends up.” 

“I’m sure he would.” Duke grinned and pushed himself up straight again. “Alright, run me through where you’ve gotten on his cases, then we can talk about whatever metahuman headaches you’re gonna put me through this week.”  

 

* * *

 

_ >I’m outside.  _

Cisco couldn’t help a sigh of relief at the text. He sent back a thumbs-up and shoved the phone in his pocket. “Welp,” he said to the lab in general. “Good time to call it a day.” 

Caitlin, over at her workstation, still sorting through diagrams and numbers with Harry, looked up. She peered at him, and then at the time on the bottom of the computer monitor. “Really?” 

He grabbed his jacket, ignoring the cold-eyed stare Harry was shooting him at Caitlin’s side. “I know it’s easy to forget in our little closed environment here, but normal people work eight hour days and then go home.” 

“Mm, and when was the last time any of us were normal?”

“That’s a point, but. As long as there are no emergencies or Zooms or whatever around, I think we ought to take advantage and be as close to normal as we can. It’s important for the health and longevity of this lab and this team that we give ourselves breaks when we can, right? Surely you learned something about burn-out, getting that doctorate of yours.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Joe’s here?” 

He grinned. “Joe’s here. Social lives are so much more cool when you don’t have to hide them, and Jesus, Harry, put the eyes away.” 

Harry scowled at him, and pushed away from the desk. “If you can’t be bothered to put in work, I don’t see why I’m delaying my own for a project that’s meant to help you. Makes no difference to me if your powers give you migraines. Some suffering would probably be good for you.”

And, damn it. It wasn’t just the long days of sullen silence and resentful looks from Harry; Cisco had gotten so used to the nicer and more cooperative Harry that he had no immunity against this return of the Asshole Version. 

So he stiffened, his jacket clenched in his fist. “Okay, you know what?” 

Caitlin cleared her throat suddenly. “I think we’ve reached a good stopping point for the day anyway, and Cisco has a point about burn-out. Harry, how about dinner? My treat. Consider it doctor’s orders.” 

 

* * *

 

“So.” Cisco gestured out the window. “Yep. This is me.” 

Joe hardly looked out, focusing more on trying to find a parking spot in front of the apartment building. “Remember, I’ve been here before.” 

“Wait, when have...oh. Right. You mean in case anyone’s...right.” 

“Not in case. We have to assume he’s watching at all times, now that we know he’s aware of us.” Joe glanced over once he put the car into park, bemused. “You okay? This was your idea, remember?” 

“Sure, sure. Just. I may not have put as much thought into you coming over as I should have.” Cisco glanced over, and grinned at whatever he saw on Joe’s face. “Oh man, no, nothing serious. More me being preemptively embarrassed by the state of my humble bachelor pad.” 

“Ahh.” Joe relaxed at that, sliding the keys out of the ignition and unfastening his seatbelt. “I don’t think it’s going to surprise me much either way,” he said, pushing open the door. 

Cisco got out after him, lugging a duffel bag over his shoulder. Joe’s things, enough to spend the night if they decided he should and then leave presentable in the morning. Stuffed in a gym bag, though, with Cisco taking charge of it. Since Joe in the scenario they’d invented would probably have had clothes at Cisco’s already. 

Joe studied the building as they crossed the street and headed to the front doors, trying not to be overt about it. There was a small empty lobby, with stairs and elevator and a wall of mailboxes. Paint was peeling off the walls in places, some water stains on the ceiling around the front doors, but not horrible. It had a weird closed-in asbestos-ish smell to it. 

Cisco headed right for the elevator, skipping the mailboxes. He shot Joe a faint grin as he pressed the button on the wall. “Third floor,” he said. “You think this guy’s got a good enough camera to keep peeping at us up there?” 

“Camera, yeah. At least judging by some of the pictures found at Whitman’s house. And he’s got the obsessiveness to try and find a good angle.” 

“I didn’t give enough thought to how creepy this was going to be,” Cisco said in response as the elevator creaked open. 

Joe made a soft sound of agreement, resisting the urge to turn and look out the doors in search of someone who might not have even been there. 

There were buildings across the street that would give a determined stalker a good view. Shops, a laundromat, some second floor offices and apartments. Nothing over four stories, and probably all with rooftop access. If Joe were staking out Cisco, that’s where he’d head. 

“Bedroom can be a private zone,” he said once they were safely in the elevator. (Safe being a relative term, the thing was tiny and creaked under Joe’s feet.) “We can shut him out of there, not even Singh would suggest otherwise. But anywhere else we should go ahead and offer him a view.” 

“The curtains kinda suck, but there’s blinds on all the windows,” Cisco answered, frowning at the doors. “I’ve never bothered shutting them, but I assume they’re all intact. It always felt pretty safe without them, and I’m not really the type to walk around bare-assed or anything, so.” 

Joe smiled faintly. “Noted. Anyway, we don’t have to do this very often. Like I said before, we don’t have to be joined at the hip now just because we’ve been outed. When we’re not together you can rest easy, since odds are he’s gonna be tailing me.” 

Cisco shot him a smile. “Yeah, but I figured you’d want to stay here as much as possible. I don’t figure you want him near your house or your kids.” 

Joe frowned at the thought of it. Even knowing that this guy appeared to only direct his hate at fellow cops, he’d still had a damn hard time accepting that inviting some malevolent stalker to scope out his house, where two of his three kids lived, was an inevitable part of the assignment. 

“Also. Have you considered Barry?” 

He blinked over at Cisco. “What about him?” 

“If you’re home and the guy’s watching the house, and Barry has to Flash out of there for whatever reason…” 

Joe frowned. “He’s too quick for a camera to catch these days.” 

“Yeah, and  _ maybe _ too quick for the naked eye, the way his speed’s progressing. But.” 

“Maybe not. And I can’t exactly warn Barry to be careful without giving him a reason why.” He nodded, considering the problems. “You’re right, staying here as often as possible would be for the best.”

The doors shuddered and groaned as they slid open finally. Cisco headed out into the hallway without missing a beat. 

Joe followed more slowly. It was a fairly small building, and this hallway was disconcertingly narrow and dim. Same closed-in staleness to the air, too, which wasn’t heartening. 

Cisco hesitated, hauling the bag over his shoulder and turning to Joe with keys in hand. “Um. It’s not a big place. And I kinda had to downgrade a while back, so. It’s crowded. Sorry.” 

Joe smiled, shaking off his discomfort in the face of Cisco’s apprehension. “It’s fine. I mean if you have bugs or a week’s worth of food rotting on the counter we’re gonna have a talk, you and me, but short of that…” 

Cisco heaved a gusty breath, but turned back and unlocked the door. “You say that, but with that fancy-ass house of yours you’re gonna judge me.” 

“Not that anyone watching from outside could tell,” Joe answered easily. “Remind me to tell you stories about studio apartments and milk crates as chairs. Hell, when we first got our own place after college, Francine and me used a stack of cardboard boxes on their sides as drawers for our clothes.” 

Cisco grinned. “Nice. And I will definitely remind you to tell me more, because young-Joe stories would be amazing. But my problem is not having too little furniture.” 

He pushed the door open before Joe could answer, squaring his shoulders and marching inside. 

Joe followed, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

And, okay. The kid had a point. 

The place was definitely small. From the front door Joe could see the entire kitchenette, a living room that might have been an okay size but for the sheer volume of things in it, and two doorways which he guessed were the bedroom and bathroom. 

Small place. And judging from the size of the couch, the amount of bookcases crammed against every wall, and the size of what Joe assumed was an entertainment center under a big TV, Cisco must have downsized from somewhere about twice as big as this. 

But it wasn’t unpleasant, not at first glance. Cramped, yeah, but the couch was deep and wide, and looked well worn and comfortable, and though the bookshelves were crammed full and there were things covering almost every bit of surface space except the floors, there wasn’t any dust. No trash laying around, nothing that suggested Cisco was a bad housekeeper. 

Matter of fact...the hecticness kind of suited him. There were some tight squeezes in places, but it had a warm, comfortable, lived-in kind of feel to it. 

The kitchenette was exposed, basically just taking up the corner of the room with a thin stunted counter island dividing it from the chaos of the living room. Cisco gestured towards it, not looking back at Joe as he lugged the duffel bag towards the doors beyond the living room. 

“Grab a drink, whatever. Lemme go drop this off and draw the blinds in the bedroom, then we can open this up and give our crazy stalker a whole show.” 

Joe noted the nervous way Cisco avoided looking back at him as he went. Funny the things that kid was shy about. 

He took a longer look around as he headed for the kitchen, this time with an eye towards their assignment. 

There was a big window pointing out towards the street. The first few inches of it were masked behind a stubby bookcase, but when the curtains were opened it would look from the street directly at that couch, almost in profile. 

Perfect, really. There was a smaller window in the kitchen, but they could probably keep that one closed, too. That gave them another small safe space if they needed it. The couch could be the star of the show. Wouldn’t be hard at all to look domestic and coupley curled up on a deep couch like that one. 

The kitchen was a little less chaotic than the living room, though the problem of available surface space showed up there, too. Cisco didn’t quite have enough counters for the coffee maker and toaster oven and blender and knife rack and all the other little things taking up room. 

Curious, Joe opened the fridge. He humphed out a disapproving breath for the first time since he walked in: there was Red Bull on the shelf, dozens of cans of it. Some bottles of beer, some take-out boxes, and not much else. No eggs, no milk.

He considered, then grabbed a couple of beers. “We’re either solving this case in the next five hours or we’re going grocery shopping tomorrow,” he called out. 

He glanced through the cupboards, chuckling at the sight of a dozen plastic cups in ridiculous shades of neon. A whole shelf of coffee cups, a couple of mismatched wine glasses that looked like they’d never been used. 

“What’d you say?” Cisco appeared in the doorway.

Joe shut the cupboard and shot him a stern look, even as he handed over one of the beers. “I thought you were kidding when you told Rob you were rotting from the inside.” 

“Ohhh, you’re judging my diet. I can handle that.” 

“What diet? There’s nothing here.” 

Cisco reached over him to the top of the fridge and pulled down an entire stack of delivery menus. “We all have our strengths, Joseph. Asking other people to bring me tasty and satisfying food is one of mine.”

Joe plucked the menus out of his hand. “Asking your man to cook can’t be that much harder.” 

Cisco’s answering smile was wide, bright enough to power generators. “That’s a new option for me, I gotta ease into it.” 

“We’ll go to the store this weekend. That’s the kind of ridiculously domestic chore this guy will eat up. In the meantime, though…” 

Cisco reached into the middle of the stack and pulled out a familiar red and white menu. “Pizza?” 

“You know me so well.” 

 

* * *

 

As Cisco ordered their dinner, Joe went to unpack his clothes for the next day.

Luckily the bedroom wasn’t quite as overcrowded as the front of the apartment. The bed and dresser were solid and big, a nice matching set. Too much for the space, but it was the only furniture besides a small table on the left side of the bed, so it didn’t feel too overwhelming.

There was a heavy comforter on the bed, and some framed movie posters on the walls, the kind of low budget sci-fi stuff Barry probably knew all about. But that was about it for decoration. 

On the bedside table was a small framed picture. A man and woman and three boys of varying ages. All dark haired and dark eyed, brown skinned. Joe looked long enough to pin Cisco as the smallest boy with the round face and blazing full-cheeked smile, before he felt like he was intruding and let it be. 

He hung up his suit for work in the morning in a closet full of t-shirts and hoodies. He couldn’t help a chuckle: of course Cisco was the kind of guy who treated his t-shirts with respect. Joe’s suit was badly out of place among all the bright colored cotton, but the contrast was kind of comforting. 

He stripped out of today’s suit coat and tie, freed a couple of buttons, kicked his shoes off. Same as he’d do at home after a day’s work. He hung up the coat next to his other suit, and sighed with some finality. 

It wasn’t home, and he could instantly think of about a dozen things he’d miss before the night was over, but it wasn’t bad. 

He left to put his toiletries in the bathroom - a nicely clean, bare space, apparently Cisco hadn’t had to downsize the bathroom much - and when he came back out Cisco had turned on the TV and was flopped down on the couch. Their beers were sitting on the narrow coffee table in front of him. 

The curtains were open. 

Joe hesitated in the doorway to the bathroom, taking in the full view of the apartment with Cisco as part of it. He drew in a slow breath and let it out. 

Time for the real show to start. 

He moved into view of the window, going around the back of the couch and grabbing his beer off the table as he dropped beside Cisco. 

Cisco grinned over at him. “It’s so weird to hear someone else moving around in here.” 

“Bad?” 

“Nah. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

“So what’re we watching?” Joe cocked his arm over the back of the couch and raised an eyebrow over at Cisco. 

Cisco’s grin only got brighter. He leaned over to grab his beer then slid in close as he settled back in, angling under Joe’s arm. 

It took a little shifting, but they fit themselves in together the same way they’d ‘practiced’ on Joe’s couch. And...yeah, okay, this wasn’t bad at all. Joe didn’t even miss his armchair. The back of that overstuffed couch was even high enough that he could lean back and really settle in. 

Which was when he noticed the frankly ridiculous image of bad sixties monster-movie costumes stomping around on the TV screen. 

“What the hell is this?” 

Cisco laughed. “I was wondering how long it would take you to complain. Want to watch Law and Order instead, Detective?” 

“God, no.” Joe squinted at the screen. “I haven’t been able to tolerate cop shows since I joined up. You think we could watch something from either of our lifetimes, though?” 

“Ooh, I have a pretty rare copy of The Terror of Mechagodzilla. That’s…’75ish? You were alive then, right?” 

“You know what, smart ass?” Joe only had to shift his hand to thump Cisco on the shoulder. Then he sighed. “Okay, yes, I was alive, but.  _ Mecha _ godzilla?”

Cisco was pink-faced through his laughing. “Considered the worst of all the Shōwa period Godzilla movies. It’s awesome.” But he waved a hand, not making Joe object further. “Okay, so what kind of movies are you into?”

Joe let out a huff of a laugh. “All the things we know about each other, and that hasn’t really come up, huh?” 

Cisco tilted his head up to grin at him. “Guess not. Should I try and guess?” 

“Depends. How offensive are you planning to get?” 

Cisco laughed. 

Joe peered down at him, and felt a strange, sudden little twitch in his chest. It felt like a good kind of moment. For their possible observer, anyway. Cisco grinning up at him like that, tucked under Joe’s arm the way he was...that would be easy to misinterpret. 

Comfortable. The way he fit against Joe, the way he smiled so easily, and with so much warmth. If Joe was less professional, less experienced, less...old, maybe...he might be worried about how easy it would be to get used to moments like these. 

His smile went a little crooked, wistful. His arm tightened around Cisco’s shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow. Maybe to prove to himself that he wasn’t worried at all, he leaned in closer. 

Cisco cleared his throat, still meeting his gaze. “Should I actually answer you, because I gotta tell you, this feels a little like one of those practice moments we ought to take advantage--”

Joe rolled his eyes and closed the distance between them. 

Silencing Cisco’s rambles had always been a pretty fun thing for Joe, but it was even better this way. He could feel the shape of Cisco’s words against his lips, and the way they cut off and split his mouth in a smile as he gave in and returned the casual kiss. 

He drew back after a few moments, smiling. Damn nice way to shut the kid up, he should have thought of it sooner. 

Cisco returned the smile, blinking his eyes open a little more slowly. 

“How’s the angle?” 

“Angle?” Cisco’s eyes went from Joe over to the window. His smile dimmed. “Right. Um, perfect, I think.” 

“Good. Should we give him another one?” 

But Cisco settled back against his shoulder and shrugged, eyes going back to the TV. “Eh. We don’t want to get too good at it too fast, do we?” 

Joe blinked down at the top of his head, but thought he understood a moment later. It was probably still disconcerting for Cisco to think about that stranger possibly lurking outside, watching and taking pictures. 

He squeezed his shoulder a little in silent comfort. 

 

* * *

 

During dinner and the movie (a documentary about Thelonious Monk, their Netflix compromise), things settled into a groove that Joe felt surprisingly comfortable with. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shared pizza with Cisco before, though it wasn’t just the two of them then. And wasn’t much challenging about watching TV with someone. 

Though he did take advantage of the movie to feel out Cisco’s newly-discovered love of jazz. That led, happily enough, to a pretty in-depth conversation that led to them ignoring the last third of the movie and going through another couple of beers each. 

After that it was late, and the potentially tricky issue of sleep dropped down on them. 

Joe wasn’t sure how Cisco would react to that. His skittishness with regards to the assignment and the mandatory closeness seemed to come and go. He got quiet and a little stiff after that first kiss earlier that night, but relaxed as time went on until he had even leaned in and initiated another quick round of ‘practice’ himself.

Wasn’t such a big deal, really, the kissing. Joe was a little out of practice when it came to the real thing, but these were quick and easy. No skill required, just a gentle brush of pressure and a smile and back to conversation.

Sleeping together was a whole different thing.

To his surprise, though, Cisco brushed it off like it was the easiest part of the whole night. They retreated to the bedroom - safely shut away from prying eyes - and he just thumped the mattress as he headed for his closet. 

“It’s a queen, should be big enough for both of us.” He spotted Joe’s suit hanging in his closet with a disconcerted ‘huh’ that made Joe grin, then headed for the wide chest of drawers. “I always wanted to have a sleepover. I mean I pictured more the ‘blanket fort on the floor watching tv until five AM’ kind of thing when I was a kid, but this works too.” 

“You never had sleepovers?” Joe asked, sitting on the side of the bed furthest from that bedside table and working the buttons on his shirt open. 

“Nah. Not the most popular kid in the world. Barry probably would’ve crashed here a few times after movie nights, except...takes him a literal second to get home, so there’s never any need.” He turned from his dresser, shaking something out. “What do you think? Too much?” 

Joe blinked over, and laughed at the sight of a long onesie that looked like a costume for one of those Teenage Ninja Turtle things Iris used to be into as a kid. “Jesus.” 

Cisco draped it against himself, looking down critically. “Might get a little hot.” 

“Yeah. I’m going the t-shirt and boxers route, but you do you.” 

Cisco folded the onesie over his arm. “I shall follow your lead, since you’re apparently a sleepover master.” 

Joe snorted, tugging his cuffs open and shrugging his shirt off. “Most of my practice is in the adult kind of sleepovers.” His undershirt was still mostly clean, and he had a fresh one for the next day, so. Good enough. “Wardrobe wasn’t an issue for those.” 

“Is that a hint? Because I ain’t scared to drop trou.” 

Joe looked back at him and laughed. “Yeah, you are.” 

“Damn right I am.” Cisco moved around his bed and headed for the door. “Dibs on the bathroom.” 

Joe shook his head, chuckling, as he left. Surprisingly easy, really. Maybe some of Cisco’s bright cheer was forced, or at least inflated, but still. There was none of his nervous jerkiness from the other day at Joe’s house. 

All in all, he didn’t really miss much. Not yet, anyway. He missed that familiarity that came with being in his own home, and the sounds of whichever of his kids were around thumping around the house as he was turning in. But there wasn’t the overwhelming sense of strangeness that he’d feared. 

If he could get to the bottom of Cisco’s hot-and-cold reactions to everything, he’d be all set. 

 

* * *

 

As easy as falling asleep together turned out to be, there was a different feeling the next morning. Joe tended to wake before his alarm, nothing unusual about that. But his brain didn’t wake as fast as his body. Not before coffee.

So it took him some time to figure out why things were so different that morning. 

The bed wasn’t that different: soft and warm, the comforter was a little more plush than he was used to, but nothing his fuzzy sleep-clogged head would’ve noticed. 

The warmth pressed against his side, that was a different story. 

For a minute he traveled back in time, to Iris and Barry piling into bed with him when they were still eleven and twelve years old. Usually because Barry had a hard time with storms - bad lightning associations - and Iris didn’t want him to feel embarrassed so she’d turn stormy nights into an excuse for a dogpile on dad’s bed. 

But that was too long ago for his brain to hold onto the idea, so he blinked his eyes open and looked down to see long dark hair splaying up from the covers, all he could see of the man sleeping crammed in against him. 

Cisco’s face was pressed into Joe’s side, head off the pillow and completely under covers, but apparently all too happy to be there. He was on his side, a leg hiked over Joe’s, arm flopped over Joe’s stomach. Mostly a shapeless mass, but Joe could feel, and became more aware by the second, all the points where Cisco was touching him.

Joe chuckled to himself, low and gravelly. He shifted enough to slide his arm from under his head to lay lightly over that mass of covers. He could hear Cisco breathing, soft and deep and even. 

Francine used to tell Joe that he ran warm all the time but sleeping made it ten times worse. She was the opposite of Cisco - she would fall asleep curled against him, warm and comfortable, and wake up on the far side of the bed, usually half-uncovered. At least until she woke up, and then she was right back pressed against him. 

He had a lot of fond memories of being woken up abruptly by Francine dropping herself on top of him, wriggling into his warmth and answering his sleepily interested groans with reminders that they had the day off, or a couple of hours to kill before they had to be anywhere. 

She’d always been more randy in the mornings. Came from dreaming of Denzel, she’d tell him with a laugh, knowing he’d roll her over and not let her up until she’d forgotten how to pronounce Denzel. 

And Jesus, was that a stupid thing to be thinking about that morning, with Cisco Ramon wrapped around him. Warm and solid but definitely not Francine. 

He reached over carefully to grab his phone and silence the alarm before it could go off. He peered at the time and huffed a breath, setting it back down with a groan. Beat the alarm, but not by much. Which was a good thing, really. Laying there for too long would have felt awkward. 

He considered the lump of blankets, trying to figure out how to extricate himself without waking Cisco up. 

Luckily the mound shifted before he had to figure it out, and a muffled voice sounded out. “I had a dream that there were dirty dishes in my sink and you lectured me for like an hour.” 

Joe chuckled, flipping the cover down to reveal Cisco’s head. “That’s not outside the realm of possibilities. Maybe it was a vibe.” 

Cisco drew back, blinking out into the dimness of sunlight filtering in through the closed blinds. “I’m just sayin, there’s sexier things I could have dreamed.” 

He lofted an eyebrow as Cisco rolled away from him onto his back. “If I’m gonna wake up with you wrapped around me playing octopus every morning then it’s probably best we both stay away from sexy dreams.”  

“Really. Who knew I was the handsy type?” Cisco grinned and dropped back against the pillow, huffing a lazy kind of laugh.

Joe grinned, sitting up and pushing the comforter off. He stretched, rolling his shoulders out, giving an obligatory one-more-day groan. No back pain, which was nice. Sometimes unfamiliar beds went right to his lower back and stayed there for days. 

“You do have coffee for that fancy coffee machine, right? I didn’t check in that barren desert of a kitchen.” 

Cisco grinned weakly, grabbing Joe’s abandoned edge of the comforter and drawing it up around his chin. “I have a Jitters card?” 

Joe’s answering groan was more sincere. 

“You can use it if you want.” 

He pushed himself to his feet. “Forget this weekend, we’re going shopping tonight.” He headed for the bedroom door, but hesitated. He glanced back at Cisco, who was all but burying himself back under covers. “Hey.” 

Dark eyes peered out from the comforter. “Mm?” 

“You okay? With…” He gestured around at the universe at large. 

The comforter tugged down, revealing Cisco’s slight frown. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean. You seem to get uncomfortable now and then, and I haven’t been able to lay my finger on why yet. You know if I do anything wrong, go too far, you have to tell me, right? We talked about this.” 

“Oh, hey. I know.” Cisco sat up, comforter puddling at his lap. He regarded Joe with a bleary kind of solemnity. “It’s cool. It’s weird, you know? But weirdness is our thing these days. If I get too weird just...write it off to my just  _ incredible  _ awkwardness.” 

Joe studied him for a moment, but smiled and huffed out a breath. “I raised Barry through puberty, kid, I’ve seen incredible awkwardness and you ain’t there.” 

Cisco laughed. “Another set of stories that would be amazing to hear sometime, FYI.” 

“Noted.” Joe grinned, but studied Cisco another moment.

He was usually better at reading people than this. He certainly hadn’t planned on much unexpected behavior from Cisco, who he knew pretty damned well after the last two years. Sometimes Cisco’s skittishness reminded him of something, but he wasn’t quite sure what. 

He was too out of practice with sharing any kind of intimacy with anyone, even this performance-art variety. 

Cisco grinned under his staring eyes. “Joe, stop copping at me. I promise, I’m fine. I’m great. Tell you the truth, it’s all been really fun so far. I mean, weird scary threatening picture aside.” 

Joe couldn’t argue that. The night before had been pretty damn fun, the movie and dinner and talking. So he relaxed. “Alright. If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure. I’ve never been more fine in my life.” 

 

* * *

 

“I’m dying. It’s happening slowly, but I can feel it. The darkness, the shadows. It’s coming. Any breath might be my last. Despair is my closest companion, and misery is my new god.” Cisco sighed into the phone. “So! Call me back whenever! Love ya, tweety. Give Carter a nice curbstomping from me.” 

He made an admittedly-obnoxious kissy noise, then hung up before Kendra’s voicemail could beep at him. He tossed the phone on the passenger seat of his car, and slouched back and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

God, he was stupid. He was such a glutton for punishment these days that he was going to have to check himself and see if self-sabotage was one of his meta powers, up there with visions and portals. 

When he opened his eyes again, the lab loomed. Dead ahead and waiting for him. He shut his eyes again with a groan: he wasn’t quite self-defeating enough to look forward to dealing with Harry all day, maybe that was a point in his favor. 

It was going to get worse before it got better, because for the life of him Cisco didn’t know how he was going to work beside Harry all day without getting distracted. 

He’d woken up a good ten minutes before Joe started stirring that morning, and it might have been the single most comfortable ten minutes in his life. Cisco was the type to never be too warm while he was sleeping, and Joe was apparently part furnace. More than that, he was big and broad and solid, a strong heartbeat and deep, even breathing. And while he was sleeping, Cisco hadn’t been able to keep from pretending. 

It had just...it had been so easy. All of it. So nice to have company, to listen to the rumble of Joe’s voice while they talked during the movie, to hear him moving around the apartment. Weird, like he’d told Joe, but  _ nice.  _ He hadn’t even had Barry over since he moved into the smaller place, and the silence sometimes bothered him so much he had actual daydreams about adopting a cat. 

Maybe he wasn’t being as ridiculous as he feared. After all, for a guy who hated silence any company was good company, right? Still, he had to admit that though he and Barry’s movie nights were fun, he’d never sought out Barry’s reactions or listened to his opinions with as much eagerness as he’d had the night before. 

He’d even been kept awake for a while after they first turned in, trying to list out other movies he wanted to watch with Joe before this whole thing ended and the silence came creeping back. The pretending started there, listening to Joe’s breathing even out, unable to keep himself from imagining that Joe was there because he wanted to be. That dinner and a movie had been deliberate, not just what they stumbled into doing to pass the time. 

A date. A real one. Hell, Cisco didn’t even have to wonder about how else it could have ended. Sexy dreams aside, a date like that ending with sleeping side by side because they both had work in the morning...that felt pretty damn perfect. 

Before Joe headed to work, he’d called Cisco out to the living room and given him a goodbye kiss. Nice and simple and easy, and if it wasn’t for his deliberately positioning them in front of the open window Cisco might have been able to pretend then, too. 

Maybe pretending was inevitable. That’s what they were doing in front of the whole world, so doing it inside his own head...maybe that was just the best way Cisco had to make it work. Joe had his whole experienced, professional angle, but that didn’t exactly work for a guy like Cisco. 

As stupid as it was, and as much as he dreaded the end of it, maybe pretending was a good way to go. It was a  _ nice  _ way to go, either way. 

Christ. He was going to go nuts if he didn’t get a handle on himself. 

A knock against the window suddenly made Cisco leap. His eyes flew open, and his heart threatened to shoot out of his chest. 

Harry stared down at him from beside the driver’s side door. 

Cisco scowled, all too real, and unfastened his seatbelt. “Really?” he barked as he pushed the door open, making Harry jerk backwards. “That’s how you want to greet a meta who doesn’t have control over his powers?”

Harry smirked, hands coming up as if wanting to show he was harmless. As if Cisco would ever believe that for a second. “I didn’t realize you were napping out here, my apologies.”

Cisco slammed the door shut, but sucked in a breath and let it out. He hated rushes of adrenaline these days, they reminded him of too many bad times. He did his best scowling-Harry impression as he headed for the side door of the lab. “You’re the kind of guy who says ‘my apologies’ so you never have to actually say ‘sorry,’ aren’t you?” 

Harry followed him. “You need to stop talking like your powers are still outside of your control. You’ve gotten much better with them, a little self-confidence would only help.” 

Cisco looked back at him, suspicious. He pushed inside without a word, though. 

Harry stayed a few paces behind him all the way through the corridors that led to the cortex. To Cisco’s surprise, he actually broke the silence without having to be asked. 

“It’s been brought to my attention,” he said as Cisco moved around the control panel in the cortex and dumped his jacket on the chair, “that I may have been overly-antagonistic lately.” 

Bless Caitlin Snow. 

Cisco just snorted faintly. “I changed your name in the computer security systems.” 

“F. U. Wells? Yeah, I saw that when I set the alarms last night.” Harry sounded amused. “A little pre-teen of you, but I suppose immaturity has its place.” 

“You’d know.” Cisco considered settling at his work station, but drew in a breath and faced Harry evenly. “So?” 

“So?” Harry waved a hand. “So. It’s possible that I have been bringing outside tension to work with me. Not the first time I’ve been accused of that. I could show you my high turnover rates for personal assistants back on my earth if you want proof of that.” 

“Yeah, no, I believe you. That’s the single most believable thing you’ve ever said.” Cisco folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raising. “And?” 

“And what?” But he held up a hand and let out an audible breath. “And. I will endeavor to be better about that.” 

“Uh huh.” Cisco regarded him. “I’m leaving on time again today.” 

Harry twitched. “I don’t pay your salary.” 

“Damn right you don’t.” 

“You have a date with Joe?” 

Cisco smiled thinly. “You know, for today I think we should both try leaving outside-of-work things outside of work.” 

Harry sighed, but seemed a little relieved. “Fair enough.” 

 

* * *

 

“Hey, dad!” 

Joe looked up from his file, smile lighting his face even before he spotted her. He pushed to his feet. “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here so early?” 

“I’m heading to work. Just, um.” She glanced around them as she reached him, accepting his hug quickly. “Wondering how the sleepover went,” she said softly as she pulled back. 

Joe chuckled, leaning back against his desk. “Pretty well. I’ll probably head back there tonight.” 

“Yeah?” She smiled, surveying him critically. “You do look pretty relaxed.”

“You know what’s weird? I’ve been thinking about your mom all morning.” He glanced back, grabbing the nearly empty Jitters cup sitting by his monitor. “You know, the old days. Apartment memories, I guess.” 

Her eyebrows were hiked up high when he turned back to her, but she just grinned. “You’ll have to tell me some stories.” 

“I will,” he said instantly. He owed her a bunch of those, really. He’d have to get her and Wally both together sometime and talk them through their folks’ younger days. 

Iris glanced around the squad room again. Things were still pretty quiet - the uniforms working the day shift had already headed out, and most of the detectives were still getting their day scheduled and situated at their desks. 

Her smile was gone when she looked back at him. “Hey, so. I did come by for a reason.” She reached under the jacket draped over her arm, and pulled out an envelope.

He took it, straightening from his slouch when he saw his name and address written out on the front. 

“That was in the mailbox yesterday.” 

He could tell instantly why she brought it in instead of dismissing it as regular mail. 

No return address. No stamp. No postage. Nothing on the front or back except Joe West and the street address. 

This had been put in the mailbox personally, by whoever wrote it. 

He frowned, head instantly going through the standard process - plain envelope, but maybe there was fingerprints, DNA if it had been licked closed, distinctive handwriting - before remembering that he couldn’t process this as evidence. 

“I have to go, dad.” 

He nodded, and a moment later pushed his gaze up and sent Iris a small but reassuring smile. “Thanks for bringing this.” 

“Yeah. Just. Be careful, dad.” 

He lofted the envelope with a shrug. “It’s just the job, baby.” 

“Dad. I work in news now, you can’t soften how dangerous your job is for me. Not the way you used to when I was growing up.” 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try,” he answered. 

She sighed, but grabbed him in another quick hug. “See you soon.” 

He turned away from the front of the wide open squad room as she left, sitting back at his desk and curling around the letter, as if he could hide it from anyone who was overly interested in him finding it. 

It was a noticeably strange piece of mail, so Iris bringing it in, being confused about it, that was easy enough to explain. He wasn’t sure he wanted his reaction to whatever was inside being made public like this, but a Joe West who was being mysteriously threatened wasn’t going to waste time before confronting what the next threat was. 

So he tore the envelope open and pulled out a plain white sheet of paper. He unfolded it, and quickly he read the brief paragraph inside.  

He had his phone in his hand before he was even consciously aware of pulling it out, and when Singh answered - sleepy, still on vacation, but quick as he always was, Joe didn’t waste time getting to the point. 

“We’re done,” he said shortly, looking down at the words on the paper and trying not to notice the tremor in his hand. “This thing is over.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I cut what I meant to be the entire rest of the undercover plotline of the story into two chapters, because these guys just keep on going and asking for more scenes and whatnot. And I wanted to post something now, because my pal Mai's having a rough week and she kinda likes this story. 
> 
> So here. Drama still incoming, I promise.

“Joe.” 

“No. No ‘Joe,’ no arguing. I let you two argue me right into this assignment, and that was obviously a mistake. No more.” He shot Cisco a glare to make sure he knew he was included. 

Cisco was busy rereading the letter, though, so the glare was wasted. 

David let out a breath, but his argument didn’t start again. 

Joe kept pacing the room, aware of Rob moving around in the kitchen but not letting it deter him. Rob was the only one with any sense about this whole thing, saying from the start that it made no sense replacing one civilian with another. 

Later Joe would feel awful, probably, for cutting their vacation short and dragging them back, but Singh had been just as insistent about that as Joe had. 

And Joe was done being ignored. 

“What we have to do now is damage control. Let this guy think he won, even if it’s not in the way he wants. Instead of chasing me out, we’ll just...have a public break-up. End this. That way the assignment’s not given away but our part of it is done. Your part of it, at least.” Another dark look Cisco’s way. 

Cisco looked up that time, eyebrows raised. 

Joe glared to fend off any arguments. 

Cisco sat back against David’s couch, letter dropping to his lap. He watched Joe pacing. 

David cleared his throat. “Joe.” 

Joe stopped in his tracks and turned on him, hands fisting at his sides. 

But David wasn’t arguing. “First thing tomorrow. However you want to handle it; something big and public or we can just keep Cisco away from the station and start some rumors. Never takes those long to spread.” 

Joe couldn’t help a sigh of relief. “Right. Good. I definitely wouldn’t bring a break-up to the station, so let’s go with the second option. Hell, I’ll stage a fight at a restaurant or in front of Cisco’s apartment, anywhere else, if that would help.” 

“And then what?” 

Joe looked over at Cisco. “And then we go back to our lives.” 

“And this maniac goes right back to threatening the captain.” 

Joe frowned. 

Cisco peered up at him with the kind of innocent expression that was never actually innocent. “Or maybe some other poor sap gets outed and he can turn his attention on them. Or no one else does, and this guy’s left to think he’s cleared the station of all the...the deviants, or whatever. Until he decides he doesn’t like people who are divorced, or people who play the field. Or brown people, maybe. So he starts threatening them, since he’s gotten everything else he wanted already.” 

“Cisco.” 

Cisco held up the letter. “This is  _ ridiculous _ , Joe. You can’t honestly be blowing a frigging gasket and ready to end all this because  _ I’m _ the one he’s threatening, not you.” 

“First of all, those are not normal threats. Second of all, you bet your civilian ass I can.” 

“Great. So you’ll give in to him super quick the moment he threatens your significant other. Then he won’t even bother hesitating before targeting Rob instead of Singh, right? Except these guys are legit married, so it ain’t like some public staged fight is gonna satisfy him the second time around.”

Singh spoke up, voice sharp. “So what’s your alternative, Mr. Ramon?” 

“Same it’s always been. Screw this guy and his melodramatic horror movie threats. Seriously. Nothing’s changed here.”

“Everything’s changed, and you know it. The only reason I ever let you talk me into this was because we thought this guy was happy just going after cops.” 

“Well, it’s too late for any other plans, Joe, so guess what?” 

“No. This is done. This was my idea, my op, and I say it’s over with.” 

“Come on.” Cisco shot up off the couch suddenly. “Yes. This is your op, your idea, but everything was fine and dandy until  _ my _ name showed up on a letter. So I’m thinking that right now  _ my  _ input is just as important as yours is. You don’t want to be responsible for putting a civilian in danger? Fine. You’re absolved. This civilian’s making his own decisions.” 

“Cisco, damn it, do you understand--”

“Of course I do. I really wish you’d stop acting like me not being a cop means I don’t have any concept of what I’m doing. I was happy to uproot my whole life and lie to all my friends and share a bed with someone, because the assignment’s worth it. Right? Catching this guy is worth it. Keeping him from Singh and Rob, that’s still worth it.” 

“Worth your life?” 

To Joe’s surprise, Cisco didn’t pause, didn’t even blink. “Sure, if it comes to it. But it won’t. Because I have a kick-ass cop shacking up with me, and we have a lot of friends who won’t let anything happen. Not to mention the fact that I…” He glanced Singh’s way and clamped his mouth shut. 

Singh’s eyebrows went up. 

“I can take care of myself.” Cisco finished a beat too late. He turned his eyes back to Joe, his gaze dark and vivid. “If you’re trying to end this to keep me safe, my opinion matters just as much as yours. If you want to end it because  _ you’d _ feel guilty if something happens to me, then just say that and stop trying to pin it on me.” 

Joe opened his mouth to argue. 

Cisco folded his arms across his chest. “And, all due respect, Joe, I’m not one of your kids. You don’t get to make decisions for me in some misguided attempt to keep me safe.” 

“I’m the cop. You’re the civilian. It sure as hell is my responsibility to--” 

“Last I checked this wasn’t an official assignment. Liability issues, remember? We’re just two pals taking on a project to help another pal.” 

“Cisco.” Joe frowned at him. 

Cisco stared back evenly, then turned to Singh. “You know he’s overreacting. You know this is just some knee-jerk reaction.” 

David raised his eyebrows. “If Joe wants out, you’re out, end of story.”

Cisco huffed a breath, but looked back at Joe. “We’re the only ones who have a choice to opt out, which is exactly why we shouldn’t.” 

Christ. When he’d anticipated the issues he’d have doing this with someone like Cisco, he hadn’t given enough thought to the sheer stubbornness of the man. 

Unfortunately, Cisco had some good points. If Joe ended this in the interest of keeping Cisco safe, it didn’t make the danger go away. It just shifted it, either back to David or to the next target on the guy’s list. Either way, odds were good there would still be civilians in danger. Civilians who were less used to risk than Cisco Ramon was. 

Civilians who weren’t best friends with the Flash, or with metahuman powers of their own. 

Intellectually, Joe understood that. He always had. It was the only reason he said yes in the first place. 

But. 

His eyes went to the letter Cisco had left on the couch, and he couldn’t help but remember the words typed on it. Ugly words, ugly threats. Bad enough in general. But pairing those words with  _ Cisco _ …

It made his brain shut down. It made him want to be back in Cisco’s apartment on a worn down couch with Cisco tucked under his arm, neither of them thinking about anything bad. He would even suffer Technogodzilla, whatever it took to keep Cisco out of some lunatic’s crosshairs.

Cisco’s apartment wasn’t safe. Locks on the doors, sure, but no lobby security, no cameras that Joe had seen, and locks were the weakest part of any security system. Maybe if they took some steps to protect themselves, he’d feel less like he was wading in over his head and dragging Cisco down with him. 

He hated this. He hated absolutely everything about it. But then that wasn’t much different than how he first felt, when he and Singh first talked this out and he realized he had to do something. 

He bent his head and rubbed at his temples, feeling worn down and - at the risk of turning himself into a cliche - too old for this shit. 

Cisco huffed out a loud, annoyed breath, apparently misreading his gesture. “Be stubborn all you want, Joe, but you know I’m right. There’s no scenario here where everyone is safe, except the one where we catch this guy. So it’s just a matter of who we put in danger. I’m the one volunteering.” 

“I’ve got damn good instincts after all these years, kid. I usually listen to them.”

Cisco huffed out a frustrated sound. “First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all…” He stalked towards Joe, his gaze intent, but steered past him to the front door. “You owe me a stupidly domestic date to the grocery store, so whenever you want to drop this BS and move on, I’ll be in the car.” 

As the door opened and shut behind him, Joe dropped down on the couch. His hand fell against that damned letter, and he grabbed it and had to consciously keep from crushing it in his fist. 

Singh cleared his throat quietly. “I told you, I have your back through this, Joe. The decision is still yours.” 

Joe groaned audibly. “What decision? He’s right and we both know it.” 

“Doesn’t matter.  If you’re not all-in then this is done.” 

Joe looked down at the letter being slowly crumpled in his hand. He could barely make out Cisco’s name among the ugliness. Cisco was right that nothing had really changed, but it still felt like everything had.

 

* * *

 

When he stepped outside the front door a few minutes later, Cisco was leaning against his car, arms folded across his chest, eyes on Joe. Ready to challenge him again like he hadn’t missed a beat. 

Joe sighed and moved down the sidewalk. “Next time you storm off you should ask for my keys first.” 

Cisco’s eyes narrowed. “A gentleman would’ve unlocked the doors from inside the house.”

He chuckled, but it was a weak sound. He reached the car, and without hesitating moved straight into Cisco’s space and rested his hands on Cisco’s shoulders. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

“Do I look worried?” The tension drained out of Cisco quickly. His arms unfolded, he straightened from his lean. He even smiled, though it looked uncertain. “Does this mean…?”

Joe sighed. “Means we’re going to the store, I guess.” 

 

* * *

 

“If you were gonna dream about me lecturing you, you probably should’ve realized it’d be about your diet and not your dishes.” 

Cisco grinned as he dropped his load of bags on the counter. “I promise you you’re going to change your mind when you try it for yourself.” 

“That ice cream was the most expensive thing we got. And I bought steak.” 

“I’m telling you, just wait. Some things are worth a splurge.” Cisco shot Joe a smile as he lugged groceries out of bags. “You want me to do this?” 

“I might as well help, I need to know where things go anyway.” 

They moved around the small kitchen for a few minutes, putting things away and staying mostly silent. 

Cisco was trying to be magnanimous after winning the morning’s battles, which meant not bringing it up at all. It wasn’t a real victory, since he knew Joe was going to worry no matter what and he didn’t particularly want to be a burden on the man. Still. The assignment was still on, Rob and the captain were still hopefully out of this guy’s crosshairs, and there they were putting away groceries. 

He wasn’t thinking about that letter. He wasn’t going to let himself. 

It was bad, sure. He did get why Joe freaked out the way he had. When Joe said those weren’t normal threats, he wasn’t playing. They were graphic in their violence, and Cisco couldn’t say he was all that thrilled to think that someone out there, someone who carried a badge and a gun and most likely knew where he lived, had those kind of thoughts towards him. 

But being in danger was hardly a new thing these days. And fear was a lot like pain - it hurt, and it didn’t much matter where it was located or what the source was, if it hurt a lot then that was all that mattered. Details were just details. 

Fear didn’t seem to differentiate between a city-wide meta threat and someone sending graphic threats directed at Cisco alone. Which was nice. It was good to realize that he wouldn’t turn into a raging coward because he was being targeted. 

He dragged himself from his thoughts when he heard a soft snort, and smiled as he watched Joe loft his overpriced carton of ice cream. 

Joe glanced over at him and shook his head. 

“Right, that’s it.” Cico set down the plastic bags of peppers and tomatoes Joe had spent foolish amounts of time picking out. He headed for Joe, swinging to the side long enough to open a drawer and pull out a spoon. “Open it up.” 

“We haven’t even had dinner yet.” 

“See, the joy of being an adult is deciding you can have dessert first. Open.” 

Joe heaved a sigh, but went along with him. Something about that, about the way he put a show into objecting and then went along readily, told Cisco that maybe he wasn’t as careful about keeping his dark thoughts to himself as he thought he’d been. 

Joe was distracting him. And was nice enough not to bring up the fact that any apprehension Cisco felt was his own damn fault for being so stubborn. 

Luckily Cisco knew the right way to reward him for that. He approached Joe, who held up the now open carton of ice cream. Cisco scooped out a decent spoonful and held it out. 

Joe eyed the spoon, then looked past it at Cisco’s face. They were both smiling by then, no secrets in either of their motivations. 

“Don’t make me have to airplane this into your mouth like you’re a toddler. Because I will.” 

“I have no doubt about that.” Joe sighed and leaned forward, opening his mouth obediently. 

Cisco slid the spoon in easily.

He then paid absolutely no attention to Joe leaning in to wrap his lips around that spoon. He averted his eyes entirely, once he had the piece of mind to do it. He felt heat rising to his face fast, between one heartbeat and the next, and he let go of the spoon handle and drew back half a step. 

From the way Joe’s mouth lifted on one side, he thought his reaction hadn’t gone by entirely unnoticed. But a moment later a look of utter disbelief spread over Joe’s face, wiping away the half-smile. His eyes went round. 

Cisco’s flash of embarrassment vanished in a flood of smug satisfaction. He reached out and plucked the spoon from Joe’s mouth. “Mm hmm.”

Joe mouth worked as he swallowed. “Okay,  _ damn. _ ”

Cisco grinned and scooped out a smaller spoonful for himself. “Every now and then, Joseph, we have to break the bank on little indulgences. Because we’re worth it.” 

Joe whistled as he moved to finish up the groceries. “I take back everything I said. That’s the best damn dessert I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Hell yeah it is.” Cisco beamed and finished his spoonful and tossed the spoon into the sink. “You really need to stop doubting me.” 

Joe glanced over, his smile fading a little. “Cisco…”

“Oh god, that’s the Serious Voice. I was not getting Serious, Joe.”

“You know I don’t doubt you, right?” 

“ _ Yes, _ I…” Cisco trailed off, shutting the fridge on the newly-shelved vegetables that the poor appliance probably had no idea what to make of. He sighed, turning and leaning against the fridge. “Well, okay. I think you trust me, but. Yeah, I think you doubt me. In this kind of thing, anyway.” 

Joe frowned, but didn’t instantly argue.

Cisco smiled faintly. “I mean, I get it. This is your turf, and you’ve got all this experience, and I don’t. I’d doubt me too. I do, sometimes, actually.” 

Joe nodded but suddenly, strangely, smiled. “I went from wearing a uniform right into major crimes, where you don’t get a lot of chances for undercover work. I’ve been undercover twice in my entire career, and one of those assignments lasted about three hours altogether. I’m not the old pro I might have been wanting you to think I was.” 

Cisco burst into laughter, mostly from the rueful, slightly puppyish look on Joe’s face. 

Joe grinned after a moment, pushing away from the counter and crossing the short space to get to Cisco. “It’s good to doubt yourself a little bit. I’d be more worried if you were one hundred percent confident.” His hand found Cisco’s arm, laying there lightly. 

Cisco swallowed, looking up at Joe’s thoughtful gaze. 

It was heady, really, being at the receiving end of that gaze. Joe West radiated concern, he always had. It wasn’t often directed at Cisco, but he still tended to notice it. He’d been jealous of Joe’s kids before over it, even when they weren’t quite as pleased to be subject to it. 

He sucked in a breath and let it out, and smiled up at Joe. “It’s okay, really. I know you.” 

“Yeah?” Joe’s eyebrow went up, his smile going crooked. 

“Well, at least I know that you have a tendency to put people’s safety above whether or not they’re happy with you.”

Joe considered that. “I suppose that’s a good way to put it.” 

“Mm. But like I said at the captain’s house…” 

Joe smiled. “You’re not one of my kids.” 

“Right. I get to pick whether I’m happy over whether I’m safe.”

“Pretty sure my kids would say the same thing. Doesn’t stop me, and it never will.” 

“Which is why they adore you so much, even when they hate you.” 

Joe chuckled, his eyes bright. “Yeah? How about you?” 

Cisco laughed, even as he felt his face flush warm again. “I wouldn’t have put up with you for a year if I didn’t.” 

“Don’t you forget it.” Joe squeezed his arm and let it go. 

Cisco tried not to notice the absence of his touch too much. He watched Joe moving back to the rest of his groceries, and let out his breath slowly. 

God, but he was in too deep. 

He pushed off the fridge and turned, opening it to grab one of the Red Bulls Joe hadn’t let him buy more of (joke was on him, Cisco had a hookup at a convenience store down the block, he’d be restocked by tomorrow). 

“You know this guy probably watched us to go Singh’s house, right?”

Joe sighed audibly. “Yeah, David mentioned that before I left. It works out, though. His letter didn’t give me the same threat to stay quiet that he gave Whitman. It’s reasonable that an outed cop getting threatened would go to his out captain for advice.” 

“How do you suppose he interpreted how we left the house, if he was watching?” 

“Pull those pepper back out for me, I’ll start dinner.” Joe was quiet for another moment as he moved around the small space. “Probably one of two ways: either you stormed out and stood there fuming because you were angry about the threat, or angry that I’m being targeted, or maybe he guessed closer to the truth. That I was considering listening to him and you were mad about that. Either way, it shouldn’t have ruined anything. In fact the sight of discord probably made him happy.”

“So it all fits. Good.” Cisco dropped the plastic bag of peppers on the counter. 

Joe humphed. “I guess.” 

Cisco laughed and took his drink around the counter, into the official ‘living room’ segment of his stupid small apartment. “Right, I’m gonna leave this to you.”

“Don’t start any of those trash movies of yours. I cook, I get to pick what we watch.” 

“Yeah, you keep thinking that.” 

 

* * *

 

He dreamed of Francine, seeing her as radiant as she’d been when they first met. Vibrantly intelligent, caring, with the absolute worst sense of humor he’d ever seen. The woman laughed at knock knock jokes for days, thought nothing was funnier than someone slipping on ice or running into a glass door. Even had this awful laugh, this loud nasal snorty thing that made people side-eye her in public. 

He loved her more than he ever thought he’d love anyone. He stopped watching satires and action films, started taking her to the most lowbrow comedies just to hear that laugh as often as he could.  

Their early days had been anything but easy. They were dead broke, she was finishing up her BA in English, he was through the police academy but the starting salary for a beat cop wasn’t nearly enough to support two adults with student loans. 

A studio apartment, furniture brought in piece by piece when they found it on sale (or on a sidewalk), Joe learning to gourmet up instant ramen to make it work three meals a week. And occasionally a date night splurge, a pizza or seafood meal out, indulging but eating stingily because the leftovers could last a couple of days if they were careful. 

It hadn’t felt anything like ideal at the time. It was stressful. They fought a lot for no reason, just to get some of their aggravation out. Back then he’d wanted nothing more than to magically skip through the next few years of uncertainty, just wake up five years later when the job paid better, Francine was working, and maybe they were getting a little family started.

But looking back, it was maybe the most free time in his life. Simpler, at least. Before kids, before metas, before mortgages, before the job became so serious and Joe became so damn old. Him and Francine against the world. 

He dreamed about it sometimes, usually when he was feeling lonely, or things around him were changing. When Barry went off to college, when Iris moved out to live with Eddie. When Wally moved in. 

Francine showed up in his dreams to help him through the big changes. 

This time, though, he heard her awful laugh and saw her smile in his dreams, and woke up to feel long hair brushing against his neck. He rolled into it, into the warmth of her, and wondered if he ought to wake her up and tell her her bonnet had come off. Hard to say if she’d be more upset about her hair or being woken up early.

He opened his eyes, and reality came back to him the same time he saw the too-light brown of the arm that was draped over him. The good thing about those dreams being so common was it didn’t take him long to realize what was going on. 

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, but didn’t move. Cisco was snoring quietly against Joe’s shirt, and Joe found himself feeling distantly amused that Cisco seemed to like face-planting into him when he was asleep. 

Handsy, Cisco had called himself. Joe couldn’t say he minded it. Joe had managed to get an arm under Cisco’s neck, apparently, and he didn’t feel any need to move it. Cisco was warm, comfortable. 

This was a lifetime from waking up with Francine. It was a lifetime away from simple. Not even considering the fact that this was staged, artificial, Cisco was nothing like she had been. Their relationship, such as it was, was very different. 

Being with Cisco for real...as unlikely as it would be, it would be entertaining. Joe had no doubt about that. Just sitting around watching television had entertainment value: Cisco had put on CSI the night before and stopped Joe’s complaining by making a game out of it. They spent two episodes pointing out all the errors in both the law and the science, and seeing whose field was most disrespected in the end. 

Turned out to be a tie. 

It was fun, though. Simple, relaxing night, especially considering the day that it followed. They’d turned in a little early, Joe had fallen right to sleep, and now he was waking up warm and relaxed with Cisco breathing into his chest.

Different. Definitely different. But, considering the circumstances, maybe it seemed different the way the past had seemed so stressful. Maybe once it was over Joe would miss this. Which was unprofessional as hell to be thinking about, but Joe wasn’t stressing too much. It was hard to think about professionalism two minutes after waking up. 

He dragged his other arm out from under the covers and brushed at the long strands of dark hair tickling his neck. He smoothed down the wild hair that had become so disheveled, and only considered what he was doing when Cisco started to stir under his hand. 

He hesitated, but felt reluctant to pull away. So he didn’t. He pushed Cisco’s hair off his face even as his eyes peeled open and blinked hazily. 

He gave Cisco a moment, drawing his hand back slowly. “Any more lectures in your dreams?” 

“Mm, no, not that I remember.” Cisco’s voice was scratchy with sleep, a little lower than normal. “I think...I was the size of an ant? But like nothing else was different. Everyone at the lab was just talking to me like normal. I remember thinking it was gonna be a bitch to have to calibrate my goggles, because screwdrivers are super awkward for ant-people.”

Joe laughed, thick, as Cisco unpeeled himself and dropped on his back. “I wanna drive you to the lab, you mind going in a little early?”

“Nah. Might make Harry less pissy, too. Is boyfriend Joe West feeling a little overprotective this morning?” 

“Can boyfriend Cisco Ramon blame me?” Joe sat up with a reluctant groan and stretched easily. He could get used to that bed, damn. “Consider it a new and probably permanent part of the relationship.” 

Cisco huffed and stretched while still flat under the covers. “For boyfriend Joe, fine. But cop Joe knows that the guys was probably just trying something new, right? Odds are good that you’re still in more danger than I am.” 

“Maybe. If we stick close then it won’t matter, will it? If he comes for either of us he deals with both of us.” 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Cisco grinned and pushed to sit up. “This is why I like boyfriend Joe more than cop Joe right now.” 

Joe rolled his eyes, but stood up and trudged over to the closet. “I’m assuming that you’re safe enough while you’re at the lab.” 

“We do have notoriously good security.”

“Uh huh.” Joe shot him a wry look, returning his grin after a moment. “Still, a cop’s gonna assume you’re safe while you’re there, it wouldn’t be worth the risk to test out that security.” 

“Which leaves you in danger and without me.” 

“I’m pretty sure this guy’s gonna come at us off-duty either way.”

“Yet you’re still driving me to work.” 

“Overprotective, remember?” 

Cisco eyed him, but shrugged. “Boyfriend Cisco is going to consciously choose to find that endearing instead of annoying. And he’s also going to whip us up some breakfast.” 

“You’re gonna cook?” 

“I’m capable. I think. I just don’t do it.” 

“Boyfriend Joe is dubious, but amused. Have at it.” 

“No faith. This relationship is doomed.” Cisco grinned and stood up, padding across the room and through the door in his boxers and disheveled t-shirt. 

Joe watched him go, amused. 

Very different from his last relationship, no doubt about it. But despite himself there was something inside of him that was really enjoying being Boyfriend Joe again. 

 

* * *

 

“Okay, test thirteen.” 

“Same setting, different timing. Maybe we should call it twelve-b.”

“ _ Fine _ , test twelve-b.” Harry didn’t sound nearly as put out as he had in general lately. In fact he was downright cheerful, though that was pretty typical when had Cisco strapped into one of his devices. 

Experimenting was pretty damn boring, in general. As impatient and brusque as Harry could be day to day, he seemed to settle into the repetition of the testing phase well. Probably shouldn’t have surprised Cisco - the man was a legitimate scientist on his earth, and nobody succeeded in science, even on the engineering side, unless they could deal with endless testing and frustratingly slight but meticulously documented changes in variables.

Cisco liked Harry this way, excited instead of impatient. He even treated Cisco suspiciously like a coworker and not like one more element of the experiment that he could adjust and order around. 

So Cisco didn’t complain - he himself was worse at handling experimentation phases than he should have been, but ADHD - as they went into lucky number twelve-b. He slid on his goggles and sat back, trying not to focus on the electrodes fixed to his temples. 

“You know the drill, Ramon. Concentrate.” 

The drill consisted of Cisco focusing on the energy around him as Harry generated the Earth Three frequency he had picked off of Jay, and using the energies of Earth Prime and Earth Two that he pulled off Harry, trying to transform them to match Earth Three so that a portal could be opened. 

The problem, and the testing variations, came in the fact that if Harry generated too little of the frequency, Cisco couldn’t pick it up. Too much and Cisco couldn’t pick up the stray Earth Two energy hanging around. 

Luckily that was the only variant, since every other aspect of the experiment was happening inside Cisco’s head. Of course that meant when things didn’t work it was just as easy to blame Cisco and his inconsistent powers as the energy settings.

Which made it all the better that Harry fell into a strangely patient state when experimenting. Otherwise things could have gotten ugly quick. 

Cisco sat, bracing himself for the wave of energy to feed into him. 

It wasn’t like an actual shock when it came, more like an alteration of the energy already inside of him. Like running through one of those portals with Barry, the strange other-worldly crackle and hum of what Cisco assumed was the Speedforce. 

It was hard to explain. He wasn’t sure if it was even perceptible to other people, or if he and his specific powers made him conscious of it. It was just a change in the hum or the very air around him, subtle but present enough that Cisco never worried he’d wake up in a different dimension and not realize it. 

Present enough that, now that he was aware of it, he sensed it in Harry himself. Which was handy, at least if they ever had to deal with other-Earth metas invading their world again. Other than that he didn’t suppose that being able to sniff out people from other universes would be that marketable a skill. 

A prickle of wrongness spread under Cisco’s skin, which was his cue to quiet down his wandering thoughts and do the job. The idea was to tamp down the urge to still that wrongness by resetting his own body’s vibrations. Instead he needed to take the energies of his own earth and the little tendrils of Earth Two that filled the breach room, and try to make them match what his own body was suddenly doing. 

And once that was easy for him, he needed to take in the newly-altered energies around him and open a portal. 

Way easier said than done, though. It was a hard thing to transform energy in a very specific way, especially when he wasn’t even sure exactly what muscle or power or whatever he was flexing to make it happen. 

He was getting used to experimenting with concepts that he wasn’t sure how to test. The rise of metas had seen to that. Still, it was frustrating. 

After a minute of hard effort he sat back, shaking his head. “Not enough.” 

Harry sighed audibly, but typed in a control. The slide of wrong energy under Cisco’s skin faded in seconds. “This time not enough, attempt eleven was too much. You want to know the difference between those two levels?” 

Cisco plucked the electrodes off his temples and stretched. “I’m guessing not a lot.” 

“Fractions.” Harry didn’t look particularly happy when Cisco stood, but he sat back in his chair. “Maybe there’s an element here that we’re missing. Maybe Jay needs to be here for this.” 

“Maybe.” Cisco wasn’t ready to give up, though, so after a quick long stretch he dropped back into the chair. As he picked up the wires attached to the electrodes, though, he hesitated. “Maybe it’s the opposite.”

“What, Jay needs to be further away? No argument here.” 

“He can’t be that bad, Harry, jesus. No, I mean...why are we using both Earths’ energies in the first place? If I can transform vibrational frequencies, wouldn’t it be simpler to focus on shifting one than shifting two?” 

Harry frowned. “We’re assuming that Earth Two would be closer to Earth Three in frequency than this earth.” 

“Which is true, I think, Jay makes my teeth rattle just a little bit more than you do. But is it so much closer that it’s worth it for me to have to worry about both variables instead of just one?” 

“You want to move out of the breach room and try it without Earth Two interference?” 

“Couldn’t hurt.” Cisco stood up again. “How portable is all this?”

Harry eyed the console. “I need a flash drive and some wire cutters.” 

Cisco tossed off a sloppy salute and headed for the back wall where his backup computer and a shelf of tools sat waiting. “Should be a flash drive on the desk over--”

Behind him the tinny sound of a muffled tune suddenly tinkled out into the air. 

“Keep walking, Ramon. You can make moony eyes over West’s texts later.” Harry was holding Cisco’s phone hostage until they took a break. A compromise that had kept things more peaceful the last couple of days. 

“It’s not even Joe, he’s got his own ringtone.” Cisco grinned, trying not to wonder why it was the Imperial March, and what Dante or his folks might have been calling about. 

“I want to ask, but I don’t ever, ever want to know. It’s a conundrum.” 

Cisco laughed at Harry’s tone. “‘My One and Only Love’.”

“Oh  _ god _ .”

“It’s jazz. Johnny Hartman, John Coltrane. It’s a good song.”

Harry snorted, focused on his monitor. “I suppose that fits. Joe was quite the jazz singer on my earth.” 

“Barry told us, and I’m still a little annoyed he didn’t get some footage on his phone or something.” Cisco lit up suddenly, turning to Harry. “Wait! You could bring me proof! There must be recordings, right?” 

Harry shrugged, but sighed after a beat. “There are. I looked him up when Jesse and I first got back. He wasn’t famous far beyond Central City, but he made some recordings to sell at shows.”

Cisco headed for him quick, wire cutters in hand. “And you can get me one.” 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because we’re friends!”

Harry nodded at the set-up from the console to the electrodes. “Get to work,  _ friend _ .” 

“Wow, way to make that word just drip with contempt.” Cisco rolled his eyes but took in the set-up and figured out in a snap what needed to be unhooked and what could be transported as-is. He crouched behind the desk to strip the couple of wires they would have to resplice upstairs. “Come on, Harry. Don’t make me have to threaten to haunt you once you go back. All I have to do is call it Vibe practice and no one would blame me.” 

When no answer came he stuck his head up past the back of the console, prairie dog style. “Harry.” 

Harry was frowning at the monitor, flash drive connected and working. “Work, Ramon.” 

“Haaaaarrry.” 

“Sometimes I think this isn’t actually a separate earth, but some form of purgatory where I’m being made to suffer for my sins.” 

Cisco rolled his eyes and ducked back behind the desk. “Bark all you want, you know you love me.” 

There was a sudden sharp bang overhead. 

Cisco frowned and peered back up.

Harry was glaring at the monitor. “Can we please just do this?” 

There was a dangerous note in his voice, all that earlier patience apparently dried up and blown away. Cisco ducked down again quickly, before he could set the man off any further. “Yeah, yeah. Thirty seconds.” 

Harry stalked over to the electrodes Cisco had left on the chair, wrapping them and their joined wires up around his arm as he came back. “Your workroom should suffice, yes? I’ll go on ahead.” 

Which left Cisco to wheel the entire console up, surprise surprise, but he didn’t argue. A prickly Harry only made the time go by slower. 

He focused on the wires under his hands, muffling a soft curse when he pinched the tip of a finger against the cutter. He was rushing, damn it. 

Why was it that every time there was a Wells around Cisco’s entire focus was on appeasing that Wells? Didn’t seem fair, really. 

“I don’t understand,” came Harry’s voice suddenly from near the door. 

“Dude.” Surprised, Cisco stood up again.  

Harry peered at him from the doorway, arm wrapped in wires. 

Weird scary bastard. Cisco nudged the console from against the desk, grabbing the trailing wires and shoving them up away from the wheels. “What don’t you understand?” 

Harry waited for him, making no attempt to help him with the unwieldy console. He backed up from the doorway as Cisco pushed it through, and followed as he headed towards the elevator. 

It wasn’t until they were in the elevator and moving that Harry spoke again. 

“My wife.” 

Cisco looked over. Harry was decidedly not looking at him, staring instead at the closed doors. 

He stayed quiet and waited. 

Harry frowned. “It was a shock to me when I met her. I had never seen myself as the sort of man who would be married. So many things were more important to me than the idea of a family.” 

Surprised by this rare volunteered personal information, Cisco was hesitant to speak in case it broke some kind of spell. But he wondered. “Tess Morgan?”

Harry nodded. “Same as my doppelganger here, I know.” 

Which meant that if Thawne had never shown up, there might have been a Jesse Wells on both earths. That was a sad thought. So much lost potential.

Harry didn’t seem to be thinking about his daughter, though. “I was, and still am, a very driven man. Interpersonal skills were never high on my list of priorities. I’m sure you’re shocked to hear that.” 

Cisco let out a faint huff of a laugh, since he figured Harry expected him to. 

“Before Tess, nobody attracted more than a second look. And not for lack of trying. I came from money, I’m not unattractive: there were always interested people around. Men, women, made no difference to me. None of them were interesting enough to take my from my work.” 

Another piece of person information revealed. Huh. 

The elevator doors opened, and Harry tensed. But there was nobody in the corridor, and Cisco suspected Caitlin was holed up doing one of her consulting projects for Mercury Labs, since there was no metahuman drama to keep her busy. 

So as they wheeled out the console - Harry helped this time, which was pushing this whole thing into ‘alarming’ territory - Harry relaxed and went on. 

“I could hold a conversation with Tess,” he said. “Not simply me talking at her, she could come right back. And not...she was smart, but not quite as smart as me. She simply had a way of thinking about things that was...challenging. She challenged me. I knew within days of meeting her that we would be married.

“She wasn’t scared of me,” he went on quietly, almost smiling by then. “She was forever underwhelmed. Not cruelly, just in a way that made me strive to impress her.” 

“Sounds perfect for you,” Cisco offered as they pushed through the door of his workroom and towards an emptyish back wall. 

“It was. Before her there had been no one like her, who could challenge me and surprise me and keep up with me. And after her there was no one. Not for a very long time.” 

Cisco moved around to the loose wires as Harry positioned the console near a computer. 

“Now. You.” 

Cisco stilled and looked up, blinking. “Me?” 

“You…” Harry frowned at him. “You strike me as being more like me than like a regular person.” 

“Ah.” He relaxed at that, not even really sure why he felt tense for a moment. “Wait, is that what this whole conversation is about? You think I need a Tess instead of a Joe?” 

“I just don’t understand what you could possibly get out of it. For me it’s wearying to even be around average people for too long.” 

Cisco moved to his tools to find some spare wire. “This might come as a shock, Harry, but.” 

“You are not me,” Harry finished easily. “But you’re brilliant enough, you could be.” 

He looked back at Harry, mouth hanging open. 

Harry glanced over and waved a hand as if annoyed. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, Ramon. Of course you’re brilliant. I have never managed to work as closely with someone for as long as I have worked with you. To me that’s proof enough.” 

“You work with Barry and Caitlin too,” Cisco said, though the objection lacked conviction and they both knew it. 

There was a difference there, after all, and Harry knew that Cisco knew that, too. There was a kind of...intimacy, almost, in the work that they did and the way they did it. 

So much of it was shorthand: unfinished sentences, gestures meant to convey entire conversations. Reading each other’s minds. Feeding off the fact that they both understood the same concepts at the same level, and where one’s expertise left off the other could usually fill in the gaps. 

It was exciting working with someone like that. Cisco hadn’t felt it since...actually, now that he was thinking about it he might have never felt it before. In school everything was a contest. At STAR, when it was fully staffed and functional, it had been much the same. Everyone wanted to be the one to impress the great Harrison Wells, and having Hartley Rathaway as a team lead only made that every-man-for-himself instinct worse. 

Working with Caitlin and Wells - Thawne - after the accident, that had been intimate in a different way. A lonely way. Intimacy that came from being three alienated people on their own struggling to recover from shared trauma. It was distant, unemotional. 

When Cisco and Harry had started really clicking towards the end there before he left, it had been exciting as all hell. Thrilling, to glance at someone with his mind going a mile a minute and to see the spark in that person’s eyes when they understood where he was going with some theory at the same time he did. Or to see a look in Harry’s eyes, to see him start to sketch out an equation, and to just instantly  _ understand,  _ to jump five steps ahead and be thinking about a build for the device that would be needed _.  _

There was working with someone, and then there was fusing brains with someone for hours at a time. Very different, and something Cisco missed the moment he didn’t have it anymore. 

Maybe that was why he was taking the return of Asshole Harry so personally. Because it meant he wasn’t going to get that back. 

Then again, maybe this conversation meant that he might get it back after all. 

He sent Harry a faint grin. “As much as I enjoy what I understand to be your attempt at flattery,” he said, light enough that Harry would realize that he really was flattered as hell, “I don’t know if I’d enjoy the kind of relationship you and Tess had. I mean, no offense. It sounds like it was perfect for you, but you live the work.”

“And you don’t?” 

“No.” Cisco shrugged, speaking honestly. “I never have. I love it, I’d probably wither and die if I couldn’t do it. It’s the greatest job I could ever have, but it’s still a job. I only take it home with me when I have to. All this,” he gestured around the workroom, “is a huge part of who I am. But not all. Hell, even before I had relationships with other human beings, I still wanted more that just the work. I just filled the gaps with, like, bad sci-fi and classic movie marathons.” 

Harry made a face. “So Joe satisfies some urge to shut off your brain?” 

“No. I’m not saying that.” Cisco frowned, feeling the beginnings of annoyance prickling at him. “He’s not stupid. Not at all. He’s frigging brilliant at what he does, he knows people better than I ever could. There’s more kinds of smarts than STEM, you know.”

“Eh.” Harry waved a hand, dismissive. “I’ve got no interest in those kinds.”

“Joe likes the parts of me that aren’t all wrapped up in this lab. And I like those parts, too. It’s nice to have someone to share them with. I don’t want to be challenged, I want to be...” He trailed off, knowing Harry wouldn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence even if he could bring himself to say it out loud.

He just wished he wasn’t lying when he said that first part. 

Harry peered up at him dubiously, but shrugged and looked back at the drive he was loading onto the workroom computer. “Sometimes I think you aim too low, Cisco. One more symptom of your bewildering level of self-doubt, maybe.” 

“Too low?” Cisco laughed, not particularly nicely. He thumped the wires on the console. “There’s not a damn thing low about Joe West. I’m lucky he even looks in my direction. Give me my phone. You’re going to need a while to get reset and I suddenly feel like taking a break.” 

 

* * *

 

Lunch was a cheap burrito he’d be regretting in an hour’s time, but though he was only away from his desk for less than an hour he’d still missed the mail coming in.

There were a couple of envelopes on his desk, but both were from the DA’s office. Interview requests for testimony for upcoming trials, probably. Nothing suspect there, he went through a few a month. One of the grinds about arresting people was having to show up at hearings and recount the details.

There was a wide brown envelope under those two, the sloppy inter-department mail that probably came from upstairs somewhere, sent by some detective too lazy to walk down. He opened it, bemused, and pulled out a few pages of interview and a post-it note:

_ West, got a call on the 5th Ave break-ins Whitman was handling, file #36857.04. All yours. _

Joe glanced through the pages, the messy scrawl of whoever took the phone call. But he frowned, dropping into his chair and unlocking his desk to grab the case files he’d gotten from Robbery. 

As he suspected, there was no file matching that number in his pile, and none of the robberies he’d been looking into were along the shops on 5th Ave downtown. 

He picked up the phone to call Robbery, but hesitated. Duke would be the one to ask, and he was in Singh’s office through the end of the day. 

Then again. 

Joe hadn’t managed to shake a weird feeling about Duke. Logically he had no basis for it - just because Duke was Whitman’s boss, and was after a promotion, didn’t mean he targeted Whitman and then Singh. And if he had, why would he have switched to Joe? (Because Joe had been there longer and would be a better fit for a promotion, even though he wasn’t about to apply for one?) Just because he got a hinky feeling from the guy didn’t mean anything more than that Joe was paranoid these days. 

Still, he trusted his gut. Maybe Duke had nothing to do with this stalking thing, but Joe didn’t trust him. 

So he turned on his computer to look up the case information himself. 

As he sat back waiting for the stupid thing to load, movement from the doorway caught his eye. Cisco, coming through from the lobby, looking pale and wild-eyed. 

Joe shot out of his chair, moving to meet him halfway. “What’s wrong?” 

Cisco held out his phone. 

Joe took it with a curse. “You got a message?” 

“A text.” 

“The guy’s  _ texting  _ you? Isn’t that traceable?” 

Cisco blinked up at him, but realization made his eyes widen. “Oh god, no, no, not the guy. Just. Look.” 

Joe frowned at him, but lifted the phone. 

_ >So they’re looking forward to meeting her. I told them Sunday dinner. That’s cool, right? _

Joe read it through a couple of times and peered back at Cisco.

Cisco nodded gravely, as if his panic and that text made perfect sense together in context. 

Joe held the phone out. “Any time you want to explain…”

Cisco groaned, grabbing his phone and looking at it like he wanted to throw it across the room. “I told Dante a while back that I had a date. So he told our folks that I’m seeing someone. And now we’re supposed to go have dinner.” 

“Oh.” Joe sucked in a breath, his eyes going wider as this new development finally caught up with his quick-to-panic brain. “Oooh.” 

“Yeah.” Cisco leaned into him, planting his forehead against Joe’s chest like he would have prefered to bang it against a brick wall. “A meta could kill me before Sunday. This might be okay.” 

Joe laughed, sliding an arm around him consolingly. “Little early to be wishing for death, isn’t it?”

Cisco made a whining noise against his chest.

“You can always say no.” 

“I--”

“Christ, West, take it outside!” 

Joe looked up with an instant scowl, mostly to cover a flash of embarrassment that he’d momentarily forgotten they were in the middle of the squad room. His retort died in his throat, though, when he saw Singh’s office door open and Duke standing there watching them, looking amused. 

He tightened his grip around Cisco, but steered him back towards the door leading to the lobby. 

Once they were back away from the doors and behind the stairwell - the closest to privacy they could get without having access to Singh’s office - Joe tugged Cisco back into their unconscious half hug. (They might still be watched, who knew?) 

“You can say no,” he said again, more quietly. 

Cisco sighed and leaned into him. “I know. I do, usually, when Dante invites me over. But mostly because I know it’s just him trying to force things. He thinks he’s doing me a favor when he pulls this kind of crap. This time…” He pulled back and looked up at Joe. “What if they do want to meet you?” 

“I assume they do.”

“No, I mean.” Cisco sighed. “They don’t...get curious. About me. A lot. It’s awful, but it’s nice? I mean it might still just be Dante being a pushy jerk, but.” 

Joe wasn’t sure he followed, but Cisco and his family life were still mostly a mystery to him. It wasn’t something Cisco seemed keen on talking about, so Joe just put them at ‘estranged’ and let it go. Still, this made it seem like Cisco didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to be estranged. 

He considered the idea. Dinner with Cisco’s family. Pretending, lying, in a close-up setting with people who were close to Cisco. Or, well, apparently not that close, but still. 

He studied Cisco. “You want to say yes?” 

“I don’t  _ know!”  _ He sighed and thumped his head against Joe’s shoulder lightly. But then he drew back again. “If I did, would that be…?”

Joe thought about that message. “They expect some twenty-something woman to come through the door? Might get ugly.” 

“Oh, I can tell Dante you’re a guy, that won’t...I mean, they’ll be a little disappointed but not surprised.”

“Still, you want to go through that knowing this isn’t what they think it is?” 

“I. Think?”

Cisco wasn’t particularly good at hiding his emotions. It was something Joe had noticed before. Even when he tried to stay blank-faced, little tugs at his mouth or his eyebrows tended to give him away. This time he wasn’t making much effort to hide it. 

He was torn, that was clear. 

Joe felt for him. Family was tough. He’d had his own rough patches with his kids lately, more than he wanted. For Joe, though, the desire to be there for them was the overriding concern, no matter what else was going on. He had never been - could never be - so furious at one of his kids that he wouldn’t be there for them if they needed him. 

So maybe that was an answer. 

He rubbed Cisco’s back lightly. “If you want to give it a try, I’m all for it.” 

“Even if it means risking some awkward scene?” 

Joe smiled. “Why not? Francine’s folks loved me, I never had to go through a scene like that before. Might be interesting.” 

Cisco sighed. “Okay. Let me torture myself thinking about it another couple of hours, I’ll answer him tonight.” He pulled away from Joe, but again just far enough to look up at him, sending him a crooked smile of his own. “You know you’re good at this supportive boyfriend thing. I’m getting spoiled here.” 

“Just do me a favor and don’t come rocketing in here like someone just died again. It’s bad for my heart.” 

“I don’t even remember driving here. Just saw that text and grabbed the keys to the lab van.” 

Joe shook his head, amused, arm still comfortable around Cisco’s back. “You face metahumans without fear, but your own brother…”

“I mean if we’re keeping it one hundred, I rarely face metahumans myself and it’s usually with plenty of fear. Like, so much fear. I just normally don’t have anyone to come to about it.” 

“Hey, you can always come to me.” Joe felt his smile going soft, fond, as he looked down at Cisco. “Anytime. Regardless of relationship status.”

“Dangerous offer, boyfriend.” 

“I ain’t scared.” Joe leaned in spontaneously and brushed his lips against Cisco’s smiling mouth. Cisco moved to meet him, rising up on his toes, no hesitation at all. Which told Joe that all their practicing was paying off. 

And, hell, practice aside, it was just nice. There was something really warming about being able to casually kiss Cisco, or slide his arm around him and keep it there. Joe always had been a tactile guy, quick with a hug or a hand-hold. He never did have much sense of discretion when it came to Francine. His love tended to be a wide open thing, laid out for anyone to see.

Funny, remembering something like that now. Funny how bits of himself he’d long forgotten about kept waking up and making themselves known. 

Dangerous, maybe. Stupid, most likely. Once this was all over those bits of him would just have to go dormant again. 

But in the meantime, he couldn’t exactly restrain himself. Not when there was a role to be played and a relationship to be sold to anyone watching. That easy physicality was second nature to him, so best to let it happen. 

Cisco settled back on his heels, his eyes bright. “You realize there’s no one looking, right?” 

Joe shrugged. “Practice is practice,” he said with a smile. 

 

* * *

 

Practice was practice. 

It was practice in the mornings, when Joe finished up in the bathroom and came out straightening his tie and looking for his keys, only to sidetrack over to wherever Cisco was and smile into their official good morning kiss. Practice whenever Cisco stopped by, or Joe took a field trip to the lab to drop off lunch or something, and they greeted each other with warm smiles and easy kisses. 

Practice when he first dropped Cisco off and picked him up in the afternoons, and they spent a few slow minutes sitting in the car, talking about what their days were going to be or how things had gone, and kissing, always, to say hello or to punctuate a point, started slipping into being natural. 

Practice at night, moving around the kitchen or sprawling on that wide couch, watching TV or reading case files, Cisco lazily sketching out blueprints and circuitry for something or another at the lab. 

Joe was starting to get overly familiar with Cisco’s mouth, the curves of his face, the warmth of his breath. The way their bodies fit together. The sound of his laugh, the glow his eyes could take on. 

It was good for the assignment. It was good that he never bothered to check anymore if the curtains were open and the sightlines were good, or if anyone was watching or they were alone. That added hesitation, it was conspicuous. All bad things. 

It was practice. Not even practice, it was the job. Live performance. 

And Joe started to think he was enjoying it a little more than the job called for. Maybe that wasn’t a huge surprise. In many ways it was the perfect relationship: amiable, simple, and though it had a time limit it was destined to end well, with Joe and Cisco as close as they had been before. Closer, even. He knew a hell of a lot more about Cisco now than he had, and he had yet to learn something that he didn’t like. 

He knew the strangely intimate details. He knew what Cisco looked like as he slept, and the way tiredness sat on his features pre-caffeine. He knew the press of his body and the tickle of his hair, and the taste of his mouth. 

All for practice. All for watching eyes, possible pictures and threats and evidence. And it was weird, really, how Joe had started forgetting those aspects of it for long minutes at a time. But good. Fine. 

He was a cop before he was anything, at least where this assignment was concerned. Losing himself in it a little bit…

It was commitment to the job, damn it. It was fine. 

It would be fine. 

 

* * *

 

At least it was fine until they were on the couch, ready to start some old black and white space invaders movie that Cisco promised to keep Joe entertained through, and their small kiss hello grew into something long and lazy that neither of them felt the need to put an end to.

And the front door opened.

“Dude, you didn’t te- _ oh my god! _ ”

Cisco jerked back off of Joe - apparently they’d become basically straddled together somehow - and nearly fell off the couch before Joe caught him. 

Barry stood in the doorway, holding a grocery bag he was about to drop and staring, huge-eyed, as far from the couch as he could. 

“Barry?” It took Joe a minute to get his thoughts working again. “You don’t knock on doors? I know I raised you better than that.” 

“Um.” Cisco cleared his throat, fitting himself against the other arm of the couch. “He has a key.” He cleared his throat. “Hey. What’s...um. Oh, man, it’s Friday.”

“Yeah. It is definitely Friday.” 

“Movie night,” Joe clarified, remembering why Barry spent Friday night dinners away from the house. “Right.”

“Yeah. Um. I can go, it’s cool. I guess I should have figured…” 

Joe looked over at Cisco, question in his eyes. 

Cisco shrugged and pushed up off the couch. “No, dude, come on in. My bad for spacing out. I was gonna force Joe to watch The Day the Earth Stood Still, I could use some moral support.”

Barry turned back to them hesitantly, relaxing a little when he saw space between them. “Um.” 

“I can take off, leave you guys to it. I should probably go take care of some things at the house anyway.” 

“Okay, look.” Cisco moved around the couch and approached Barry. “Let’s not turn this into a whole weird deal. Me and Barry watch movies together all the time. So do me and Joe. So do you two. There is no reason this has to be a thing, right?” He grabbed the bag from Barry’s hand. “Go sit, dude. There’s pizza coming.” 

Barry peered at him as he took the bag into the kitchen area, and shot Joe a look. “Um?” 

Joe shook his head with a smile and waved him over. “Come on, Bar.” 

Barry moved around the couch and eyed it suspiciously before he sat. 

Joe rolled his eyes. “You want to ask a personal question about what goes on on this couch?” 

“No. I really, really don’t.” Barry relaxed a little, though, grinning, a little pink-faced still but recovering. “Sorry. I guess...that shouldn’t have been as weird as it was, but. It was.” 

Joe made a low sound of agreement, wondering if it was weird because Joe had never really dated anyone when Barry was growing up, or because it was Cisco he was with. 

Probably both. He wasn’t about to ask for sure. Sometimes awkwardness needed to just be left on its own terms. 

Hell, this was probably a good weirdness preview for how Joe was going to feel when Barry and Iris started being affectionate in front of him. 

Cisco came back with snack bag in hand, a couple of Red Bulls for him and Barry and water for Joe. He took in the space between them but settled into it happily after dispersing drinks. “Okay, so now that there’s three of us we can actually take a vote if nobody’s feeling like being lectured by Klaatu tonight.” 

Joe snorted. “I have no idea what that means, but knowing you two it can’t be any weirder than anything else you’d pick.” 

Barry and Cisco shot him matching grins, and Joe felt a little warm tug in his gut. He sat back, waving at them to get on with it. 

The movie was as bad as he imagined, but with Barry there Cisco had someone to riff off of with his little comments, and Joe found himself laughing just as hard as ever. Pizza came and got polished off almost as soon as it hit the table, and after they ate Cisco settled in a little closer to Joe, finally snuggling in under his arm after a bathroom break. 

Barry looked over at that, but just peered at them for a moment and then turned back to the movie. 

It was nice. Especially considering Barry’s strangeness after they’d first been outed. Besides, as content as he was starting to feel sharing Cisco’s space, this was the most time he’d spent away from his kids in a long damn time, and having one of them around made something in his chest get a little less tight. 

Maybe next Friday he’d ask Barry to bring Iris and Wally along. Or they could do this at the house. Joe was planning to spend part of the weekend at the house catching up with everyone, and of course he saw Iris and Wally both at lunch some days during the week, but. It didn’t feel like enough. 

He never meant to move into this little apartment entirely. It was just easier than he thought it would be to come back day after day. 

It was easier than he thought it would be to lose sight of the fact that he was working when he was there. Undercover, nonstop, twenty-four-seven of being on the job. This was temporary. The calm before the storm. 

And that was the last thing he needed to forget. Because as cozy as this hectic apartment was, and as nice as it was to hear Barry and Cisco laughing at jokes he didn’t understand, and as snug as Cisco felt under his arm…

The storm was still coming. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an unnecessarily long chapter, but not as long as I was first planning. Emotional shenanigans ahead. 
> 
> Also I should warn: there's a pretty detailed memory of a violent death talked about in this chapter.

Joe spent most of the weekend at his own house. It was overdue, really: he never meant to move in with Cisco full time, but now that it was practically happening he definitely needed more of his own things. So he packed a couple of bags to take with him back to to Cisco's Sunday, and he hung out with his kids. It was needed.

Even if they spent ninety percent of the time giving him crap.

“Tell me the truth, how many times has he slept here and we never knew?”

“Oh god.”

“Wait. Did he spend nights in this house before I even got here?”

“It’s cute you think this is any of your business, Wallace.”

Wally just laughed, ignoring his tone and focusing on his laptop as if doing schoolwork made him immune to Joe’s wrath somehow. “I mean, I seem to remember some strict rules about no sleepovers with the opposite sex while I’m here.”

Joe was currently scowling into his fridge: he’d been sure he had some chicken thawing, but of course that chicken was actually sitting in a fridge in an apartment further downtown. “First of all…”

“You’re not gonna use the ‘opposite sex’ thing as a loophole, are you?”

“ _First_ of all,” Joe said again, shooting a look out at the dining room table. “My rules are my rules because this house is my house. When I’m living in your house you can ask about my sleepover guests.”

Wally laughed. “In twenty years when I’m taking care of you I’m gonna remember you said that.”

“Twenty? Try fifty, smart-ass.”

Wally looked up at that, grinning.

Joe tried to scowl back, but damn it. That was Francine’s crooked grin beaming up at him, and he never could resist smiling back.

Wally just grinned all the bigger when Joe’s mouth quirked up. “I notice you haven’t answered the question, though.”

“Get used to it.” He debated ordering pizza, but sighed and turned back to the fridge. “Did your mom let you get away with questions like that?”

“Are you kidding? Mom would’ve whopped me in the head by now.” Wally laughed, looking over as the front door opened and shut again.

Joe nodded his approval as he shut the fridge. “Is that Barry? Because I’m thinking we need to make him run for burgers.”

“And I’m thinking you get enough sodium from all that delivery pizza you go through.”

Not Barry. Joe turned with a smile, though, as Iris moved in and past Wally, dropping her purse on the table as she went.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hi, dad.” She approached, leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then unceremoniously pushed him out of the way. “No fast food. If you’re too lazy to cook, get out and let me do it.”

“Not gonna turn that down. Even if both my kids are getting a little too comfortable with how they talk me these days. You do remember whose house this is?”

“We will as soon as you do.”

“I haven’t been gone that much.” Joe moved aside, leaning back against the counter.

“I’ve been here more than you the last two weeks, and I don’t live here.” Iris shot him an amused look. “You having fun with Cisco?”

“Iris!” Wally looked up from his laptop. “Gross. Come on.”

She laughed. “Doesn’t matter, me and Cisco are having coffee next week. He can tell me himself.”

“He won’t, though.” Joe spoke confidently.

She sent him a raised eyebrow and a smile.

Joe looked from Iris to Wally as she tugged food from the fridge and he went back to his work, and he shook his head with a chuckle. He left the kitchen, moving down to the table and passing behind Wally.

“Ow!” Wally jumped when Joe swatted the back of his head as he went. “What was that for?”

“Francine always said I was gonna be too soft on our kids. ‘You’re the one with the gun, but I’m the one they’re gonna be scared of.’” He dropped into his seat at the head of the table, and didn’t miss how Wally and Iris were both suddenly looking at him.

He smiled faintly, a little bittersweet, but didn’t forget his recent promise to himself about sharing more about the early days with his kids.

It was overdue.

He sat back, trying to be casual about it. “You know when she was in her last couple years of college, we lived in an apartment about the size of your bedroom upstairs.” He nodded at Wally. “She ever talk about that?”

“No.” Wally’s grin was gone, his voice soft.

From the kitchen Iris started moving again, but quieter and slower.

Joe drew in a breath. Talking about her meant he’d be seeing her in his dreams again that night, he had no doubt. At least there’d be no one in bed with him when he woke up to confuse his memories.

Then again, maybe he’d miss that.

He thought for a distracting moment about Cisco’s sleepy morning grins, the way his voice rasped that early, the way he was always ready for a conversation ten seconds after waking up. The way he face-planted into Joe like Joe’s stomach was just another pillow.

Yeah, he’d probably miss it.

He cleared his throat. “Alright, settle in, kids. Story time.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’ll notice I didn’t call you back after I got your hysterical ‘despair is my mistress and death is coming’ voicemail.”

“I did notice that, actually.”

“And is death still coming?”

“Eventually.” Cisco grinned into the phone, dropping back on the couch dramatically. Even if it was a wasted movement over the phone. “Unless there’s another aspect to my powers I don’t know about yet.”

“Uh huh. Let’s hope not. Immortality’s overrated.” Kendra sounded amused, like she did during about ninety-eight percent of their conversations. “We were out of touch for a few days, really. Sorry. I’m glad you’re no longer feeling so existential.”

“Yeah, that was a phase. A recurring phase these days. But what’s up with you two? Why were you out of touch?”

“Nothing worrying. Carter’s got this obsession with past-life contact lately. Meditation and distraction-free living to get in touch with the lives we can’t quite remember yet. I promised him a solid few days of effort, no phones, no contact with the world, no nothing. It was…”

“Mmm. You went to a Starbucks the minute he let you out of his sight, didn’t you?”

“Four _days_ without caffeine. I’d think it was punishment for something if it hadn’t actually kinda worked.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Depends. Do you want to hear about Vandal Savage’s role during the Crusades?”

“Nope. No. Nah. All set there, thanks.”

She laughed.

“Seriously, this time travel and immortality stuff is weird enough without me thinking about how many things in my history classes were a direct result of a guy I once ‘dude’ed.”

“Try remembering you were there for it. _That’s_ weird.”

He shuddered, but grinned into the phone. “Well, the Egyptian gods couldn’t have picked a better woman for eternal reincarnation.”

“Sweet-talker. Now spill, how’re things with you? Are you still undercover dating?”

“Yep! Not currently. But tomorrow night we resume.”

“And how’s it going?”

Cisco sighed. “We got threats from our bad guy. So that part’s going along full-steam. Apparently he wants to, like, do horrible things to me?”

“But you’re safe?” she said quickly, her voice a little sharper.

“Yes, tuck the wings back in, I’m fine. Joe kinda freaked out, tried to stop everything then and there.”

“Good.”

“Not good. And I talked him out of it, so ha.”

“ _Good_ because he’s looking out for you.”

“Joe looks out for everybody. That’s his thing.”

“Cisco.”

He sighed. Again. Loudly. “He’s meeting my folks tomorrow night.”

“What? Really? Wait, your family lives in Central City?”

“If you hadn’t left me for a hawk god you would’ve met them by now.”

“But you’re taking your fake boyfriend.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Cisco.” The smile was finally out of her voice. “Is that...I mean, _why?_ ”

“It wasn’t our idea. But...I didn’t say no. And Joe didn’t say no. And I don’t really know why.”

“Sounds like he might really care about you.”

He winced. “Well. Yeah. We’re friends. I help Barry and he’s grateful for that. And he’s a really caring guy in general.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m serious, Kendra. It’s not more than that, and I seriously need to not think that it might be. I just…” God, how to even explain it? “I don’t know how to _not_ get used to this,” he finished after a moment, eyes shutting, head dropping against the cushioned arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry, baby. You leave me existential voicemails whenever you need to, okay?” There was a rustle on her end suddenly, the grumble of a low voice. “Relax, it’s Cisco.”

He grabbed the distraction quickly. “Is that Carter? Shiv him in the spine from me.”

She laughed. “I should go. Apparently he doesn’t think ‘it’s Cisco’ is a reason to relax.”

“Hah! Jealousy! Yes!” He grinned. “You be safe, Hawkgirl.”

“You too, Vibe. Hey, speaking of. You did your vibe thing on whatever threat this bad guy sent you, right? He should be pretty easy for you to find, considering.”

Oh.

Cisco blinked, sitting up fast. “Um?”

“Mmm.” Kendra laughed. “This is why you need me.”

“This and many, many other reasons. And now _I_ better run. Talk to you later.” He hung up with her fast and pulled up Joe’s number.

But then he hesitated, finger hovering over the call button on the screen.

He didn’t vibe on the letter just by holding it over at Singh’s place. But that didn’t mean anything. He had gotten way better at controlling it: if he focused, it would work. Even if he had to take it into the lab and use the goggles.

He could just...do it. Ten minutes, the case might be as good as solved.

But…

But.

But Joe was at home, probably hanging out with his kids and having a nice day off. Cisco shouldn’t interrupt that, should he? It was the weekend, and Joe was a cop: he didn’t get enough weekends off as it was. Cisco was probably the last person he wanted to hear from after so much sustained contact lately.

Monday. It would keep until Monday.

That was better, wasn’t it?

Of course.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco rambled when he was nervous.

No revelation there, but Sunday evening his rambles took on an interestingly extreme kind of turn. In the space of a single breath he’d swing from, “This is going to be great! I mean of course they’re going to love you, you’re you, it’s totally okay,” right over to “I can’t believe I agreed to do this, there has never been a worse idea. I feel the minor chords in the soundtrack music, Joe, okay, I _feel_ them.”

If he’d asked instead of running a monologue, Joe would have admitted that he was feeling more than a little nervous himself. Yes, fine, this really wasn’t what it seemed to be. Neither of their lives were going to change in any real way, no matter how much Cisco’s family disapproved of him. They were acting. This was a show for a single silent, malevolent watcher.

Joe had no emotional stake in being accepted tonight. And Cisco hadn’t been close to his family for years, apparently. So. No big deal.

Still. It was going to be an awkward night, there was no getting around that. Joe had started thinking earlier that day what his reaction would be if Iris brought a man Joe’s age to a meet-the-family dinner, and from there his thoughts had spiralled even further down.

Cisco didn’t talk about his issues with his family. Joe knew too much - about Armando, anyway - but nothing in the background check had addressed what the tension was between them. Still, he had a really hard time imagining any parent who wouldn’t flip out when their child brought someone close to their age home.

Joe was used to ugly scenes. He’d been a cop a long damn time. But this time he was going to be the source of the ugly, and was going to have to sit there and take it, because that’s damn well what he would do if this was the real relationship they were pretending that it was. He would face the ugly and deal with it, and if nothing else show Cisco’s family that he wasn’t going to run off at the first sign of opposition.

“I might murder him.” Cisco directed Joe onto the right street and stared at the slowly passing houses grimly. “Really, all things considered it’s good you’ll be here, because. Cop. My folks won’t even have to call it in. I’ll straight-up strangle my brother, and you can give me a ride to Iron Heights. Super efficient.”

“He thinks he’s doing you a favor, right?”

“Ugh, don’t listen to me when I defend Dante. He might think he’s doing me a favor, but this from someone who convinced me that my doing his pre-calc homework in high school was something I owed _him_ for. He is self-serving before he is anything, and I don’t know what he’s trying to distract our folks away from with this, but there has to be something.”

“Or he’s trying to be a better brother,” Joe offered mildly.

Cisco let out an oh-so-expressive ‘psshht,’ slumping back in his seat. “The grey one on the left,” he said, eyes going straight ahead and locking there.

Joe pulled the car up to the curb of the quiet street easily, and shut the engine off. And there he hesitated.

There didn’t seem to be anyone following them - and he’d been watching - but that was no guarantee. Judging from the pictures this stalker had taken of Whitman, the guy was efficient and good at getting close without being noticed.

Still, Joe didn’t have to slip into any role to twist in his seat and look over Cisco with genuine concern in his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tense,” he said. “And I’ve gone Grodd-hunting with you before.”

“Yeah, pretty sure you got the worse end of that deal,” Cisco fired back without looking over at him.

Joe sat back, waiting.

Cisco blew out a breath after a minute, casting a sideways gaze over at the house. “It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine, really. It’s not like things are _bad_.”

Joe raised his eyebrows.

Cisco looked back over at him, and flashed a smile that looked strained, but genuine enough. “It’s fine,” he said again. “You’ll see, it’ll be fine.”

If nothing else Joe was more than prepared for weirdness as they approached the house. He took Cisco’s hand - both in case they had an uninvited audience and because he wasn’t crazy about how grey Cisco looked - and reached the door by his side.

Cisco knocked.

Joe didn’t say anything about that, though he couldn’t imagine one of his kids feeling like they had to knock on his front door instead of coming right in. He wondered if Cisco even had a key.

The door opened after a moment, Cisco jerking into nervous attention the moment the knob started to turn.

Joe had never met Dante Ramon before, but he had forgotten until the door opened that he had watched, up close and personal, as Dante’s Earth-2 doppelganger had been killed by Zoom. He twitched a little at familiar dark eyes, high cheekbones and sharp jaw.

Dante was a good looking guy. Noticeably older than his brother, tall and broad-shouldered. His gaze was warmly amused as it landed on Cisco, but changed entirely when he looked over at Joe.

Surprise made his eyes widen, his eyebrows rise. His greeting smirk melted down into a pursed expression.

“ _Ese_ es tu novio?” he said, looking back at Cisco, his voice low.

Cisco raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Te lo advertí.”

Dante sent another side-ward gaze at Joe, but shrugged and moved aside to let them in. “Trust you to make some weird choice,” he said, quietly but not quiet enough that Joe didn’t hear it.

He felt his face go a little warm, which surprised him. He’d thought he was prepared for any kind of reactions.

Cisco moved through the door like he was going to an execution, hanging back without looking around. He cleared his throat. “Dante, Joe. Joe, Dante.”

Joe stuck out his hand reflexively, offering a polite smile that felt a little wan. A ‘trust me, this is strange for me too’ kind of smile.

Dante eyed him, but accepted and shook his hand firmly. “Joe,” he said, considering. He leaned in a little, eyes narrowing. “If you hurt him…”

Joe’s eyebrows lofted. His smile grew all the more bland. “That’s more your territory than mine,” he said. “I wouldn’t dream of trying to step on your toes.”

Dante blinked.

“Wow. Okay, sure, that counts as an introduction, and now it’s over.” Cisco reached between them and tugged their hands apart. He scowled at Dante, shot Joe a pursed look that had just a glimmer of amusement in it, and marched away from them both further into the house.

Which was actually a win, because at least Cisco was too distracted to keep lurking in that weirdly apprehensive mood he was in. Joe decided to follow his lead, moving after him without a look back at Dante.

Cisco’s parents were in the kitchen, both moving around each other and the food that was cooking with an ease that spoke of decades together. Cisco had stopped in the doorway, so Joe moved up behind him and waited, watching the Ramons as they bustled around.

Mrs. Ramon was lovely, with long dark hair that didn’t seem remotely touched by grey, and warm dark eyes she shared with both her sons. She seemed cheerful as she moved around, and just as cheerful when she glanced over and spotted Cisco standing there.

“There he is!” She moved around her husband to the door, arms outstretched to greet Cisco. “Mijo, you always look so tired.”

Cisco hugged her, quick and light. “I’m fine, mom.”

Her eyes went over his shoulder to Joe, and she held out a hand without missing a beat. “And this is your friend…?”

“Joe. West.” Cisco looked back at Joe. “Joe, my mother, Lucía Ramon.”

Joe shook her hand more gently than he’d shaken Dante’s, offering a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ramon.”

She waved a hand. “Luc, please. And Daniel, Cisco’s father. Daniel, come meet Joe. You know, Joe, you look very familiar to me.”

Cisco’s father wore his age clearly enough to make Joe no longer feel like the only old person in the room. His hair was thick with grey, his eyes hooded and sagging, but sharp. There were deep lines around his eyes and his mouth, and at first glance he didn’t look much like Cisco at all.

He moved around to his wife’s side and studied Joe, sending a critical look over to Cisco. “News,” he said, patting Luc on the arm before moving right back to the stove.

She squinted a little, but brightened and pointed at Joe. “Yes, of course! You’re on the news sometimes. We try to watch every night, but…” She gestured aimlessly. “It’s only stranger and stranger these days. You are with the police, Joe? Come, have a glass of wine.”

Joe glanced at Cisco, but moved past him when Cisco didn’t appear to be going anywhere. He moved into the bright kitchen, seeing with approval all the signs that the room was used often.

He was starting to wonder if he wasn’t missing something.

Cisco’s parents conversed with him easily as they finished up dinner. Luc was much more talkative than her husband, but they both seemed amiable enough. Joe accepted a small glass of red wine and listened in real interest as she explained what they were having, and how they prepared it. She showed him an ice cube tray in the freezer full of frozen seasonings she made up in big batches and used as needed.

“Sofrito,” she said, gesturing to the sauce of the chicken and the flecks of color in the yellow rice as her and Daniel dished it out. “If you want to win over the heart of a Ramon, you need to know sofrito.”

Joe laughed. “Twizzlers seem more Cisco’s style.”

She tsked, shooting a look at the doorway. “Your teeth will fall out any day now, all that sugar.”

Cisco just smiled weakly.

As they sat down - Luc and Daniel on either end of the dining room table, Joe seated beside Cisco, across from Dante, without a moment’s fuss being made about it - Joe was all the more mystified about Cisco’s apprehension, and his silence as the talk went on around them.

But as they ate, he began to understand.

Luc and Dante seemed to be the chatty ones, and between Dante’s stories and Luc peppering Joe with questions about his job and the metahumans that were on the news all the time, there wasn’t a single awkward silence.

There was also next to nothing said to or about Cisco.

He sat beside Joe, eating quietly, and that was it. Luc dished him out some more chicken with some words about how he was getting skinny, but as the talk went on he simply didn’t seem to have a part in it.

As the meal was winding down and Joe became consciously aware of all this, he prodded at it a little. When Luc asked him about his own kids, he used it as an excuse.

“That’s how I met Cisco,” he said, after briefly explaining about Barry’s coma.

Luc just waved a hand. “That lab caused so much trouble for so many people,” she said with a sigh. “But your son is alright now?”

“Thanks to _your_ son.”

“And your daughter is a reporter, you said. That must be interesting these days.”

And that was it. None of the Ramons seemed to have any interest in what Cisco’s part in saving Barry’s life might have been. Or in anything else about him. Even Luc and Daniel’s interest in Joe was about Joe, not about his relationship with their son.

It was puzzling at first. As dessert turned to coffee it became worrying.

Everyone seemed friendly enough: Luc served Cisco with a fond smile, and Daniel thanked him when he offered to clear the table, even smiled at him in a way that made Joe start to see the resemblance between them. Nothing incredibly bad, nothing obviously wrong.

But nothing particularly good, either.

Joe watched Cisco as the talk went on, his uncharacteristic silence and the way he seemed to sink in on himself bit by bit the longer they were there.

But the one one time he tried to force the matter, when he cleared his throat and said, “So have you ever been over to that lab Cisco works at? Because I don’t know anything about science, but it’s pretty amazing,” Cisco looked over at him with stark eyes and shook his head quickly and meaningfully.

“I’ve been,” came Dante’s short answer, while their parents didn’t speak. Then he changed the subject smoothly. “Luckily I’ve never had to go to the police station: is that impressive at all?”

 

* * *

 

 

By the time they left the house, with Daniel’s parting handshake still warming Joe’s hand, he felt tense and irritated and he couldn’t have voiced why if he’d wanted to. By all accounts that was a perfectly nice family, and the ugliness Joe had been expecting when he was introduced to them had never come.

Then again, that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

When they were closer to Cisco’s apartment, Joe finally spoke up. “I have questions.”

Cisco leaned over to turn the radio down. “Your finely-honed cop curiosity is one of the things I dig most about you.”

Joe shot him a thin-lipped look.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s entirely one hundred percent my fault that things are so weird with them?”

“Funny enough, no. I’ve got kids, remember? I know how the family thing works.”

And that was the weirdness, wasn’t it? That had felt like a very nice, caring family that Cisco Ramon just kind of wandered into and out of. They seemed interested in him, if he was sleeping or eating right, but it was a remote kind of interest. He felt more like an old family friend, whose life was vaguely curious to them but not anything that actually affected them in any real way.

Amiable strangers, amiable evening, all small talk and mild curiosity, which was only pleasant until Joe remembered that those were his parents, his brother. His only family.

Cisco fell quiet, though, looking out the window with his teeth digging into his bottom lip absently.

His music was playing too softly to be a distraction now, but Joe sighed and focused on the road and let it go. For now. This ‘relationship’ of theirs...he wasn’t going to act like it gave him some right to pry into Cisco’s past. Family was tricky, Joe knew that better than anyone. To outsiders the complicated layers of it didn’t always make sense, or come across right.

Joe pulled up at Cisco’s apartment, circling to the side to find a parking space.

Cisco shot him a small smile as he opened the car door. “Come on up, we can chat. This feels like an ice cream night.”

Joe groaned, but shut the car off and slid off his seatbelt. “Better not let Iris know you’re feeding me like this. Those little coffee talks of yours would get a lot more naggy.”

His humor faded as he moved around the car and caught up with Cisco. Cisco’s cheer returning hadn’t eased the slouch from his shoulders all the way, and Joe had a feeling that his jokes were something of an act.

He reached out his hands, aware of the wide open public space around them.

Cisco smiled faintly and took both hands in his, squeezing a little too tightly as he stepped in close.

“At least it’s over with,” Joe offered, looking down at Cisco with a fondness in his smile that wasn’t at all affected.

Cisco shrugged, but leaned in and up on his toes and sought out a kiss like he was chasing some form of comfort.

The kiss and the comfort were both things Joe was more than happy to give.

 

* * *

 

 

When he was ten years old Cisco tried to explain Newton's third law of motion to his parents, and they never looked at him the same way again.

This was how it happened: he was walking home from school, on his own as usual. Most students in his grade were twelve or thirteen years old (Cisco skipped his first year when he was five, which his mom always fretted had been the start of his downfall). Needless to say, the other kids didn't play with the baby in their class. Cisco didn’t much mind the alienation. It was a lot like how his older brothers treated him most of the time. He wasn’t hated, just ignored.

He ambled his way home everyday playing around with an ancient, barely-functional Gameboy he inherited from Dante, who inherited it from Armando. He’d been reading a lot of technical manuals from the library computers, and was starting to think seriously about the idea of breaking open the casing on the Gameboy and making it work better. He only hesitated because of times like that walk home, when he didn’t have to feel alone because he had the games to focus on. If he accidentally broke it he wouldn’t have that.

Then he heard his name from up ahead.

Armando was out of high school, working two jobs, saving up to get his own apartment. It was all he talked about anymore: what part of town he wanted to stay in, and whether he’d take the posters from his room or if they were too childish now that he was grown. He had a girlfriend Cisco had met once, she was going to move with him despite their mom’s protests. She was nice. She’d ruffled his hair, treated him like a normal kid.

That day, for whatever reason, Armando was on the sidewalk about halfway between the school and the house. He was waiting, leaning back against a parked car and grinning at his weird baby brother.

Cisco had the instant, absurd thought that Armando wanted his Gameboy back, that was why he was there. He turned it off and clutched it against his chest as he approached, just in case.

He was about ten feet away and Armando was coming off the car when there was a screech of sound from the road.

He never heard a shot, never noticed the car that passed them. He was watching Armando warily, and then suddenly Armando was falling forward, momentum tossing him onto the sidewalk and into an unmoving sprawl.

(He found out later that it was the car, the one Armando had picked to lean on while he was waiting. It belonged to someone who had beef with someone else, and that someone passed and saw the car, and saw Armando from behind, figured ‘close enough’ and fired. Three times. Cisco never heard any of them.)

His memory was in patches after that. He remembered being on his knees, hauling Armando over on his back. He remembered red, a lot of red, and screaming from around him as some of the other kids from school caught up to them, and some of the neighbors started coming out from their houses. He remembered himself screaming, too, mostly Armando’s name over and over again. He remembered Armando’s blood getting on his hands, on his sleeves. Drying until his skin felt tacky and weird and his shirt went stiff.

Almost the next thing he remembered was drawing. Sitting at his little desk at home in his and Dante’s room, drawing an arc in the air, and a stick figure ready to be blown off his feet.

It was the movement of it that he kept trying to capture. What was it that made Armando fly forward like that, snapping over head-first like his skull suddenly weighed a thousand pounds?

He worked it out like that, Newton’s third law. Hour after hour at his desk, in his room, staying home from school without even having to ask if he could. He figured out that the force of the bullet directly related to the force of energy that pushed Armando forward. A bullet was just a little hunk of metal, right? It wasn’t dangerous in itself, but when it was fired it was borrowing energy from gunpowder, and that energy was what sent Armando flying.

He drew different elements of it until it was clear in his head: gunpowder was like fire contained in tiny powder, and it created the energy. Fire was like trapped sunlight being released, he already knew that. But the bullet would have lost a tiny bit of energy as it moved, since gravity pulled everything down no matter how fast it went. Still, what was hitting Armando and making him fall was basically a burst of energy, of fire.

It was amazing. The whole idea of it. The way energy transferred like that. The fact that it was so clear to him.

There was a funeral, and a bunch of people in their house afterward, and Cisco wanted to talk about what he’d learned but nobody wanted to listen to him. He focused on recreating his drawings in his science notebook from school, drawing the arc of the bullet and little arrows showing gravity trying to drag it down, and a little stick figure standing stuck as the arc moved its way. That same little stick figure lying where it was thrown seconds later.

He went back to school, and they sent him to talk to a counselor to discuss his feelings about the tragedy. Instead he spent long, excited minutes trying to explain about arcs and energy and the force a bullet traveled.

They called his parents.

Cisco hadn’t talked to his folks about it, because even back when he was ten years old they were tired of listening to him jabber on about the world all the time, and he knew better. But when they walked into the counselor’s office with Cisco’s principal and asked him to tell them about what he’d told the counselor, he was so excited to have their attention that he stammered all over the place.

The counselor asked him about Armando. Was he sad he was gone? Did he remember seeing what happened? Cisco got frustrated: obviously he remembered, he was trying to tell them about it. The energy thing was important, he knew it.

His mom told him years later that the counselor and principal sequestered his parents and strongly recommended they send Cisco to a therapist. They used a lot of words like depersonalization and lack of emotional response.

But though a therapist probably would have been helpful, Cisco wasn’t unemotional. He cried about Armando all the time. He woke up screaming and didn’t remember what he dreamed. He always expected to see red on his clothes, and feel his skin pulling when he curled his fingers into fists. Cars that came around corners too fast made him drop and huddle and gasp for air until someone picked him up.

When there was energy to focus on, it was better.

Of course losing Armando changed everything. His parents weren’t just exasperated by him anymore: his dad would bark at him to shut up when he tried to talk about arcs or energy or whatever new science he was working out that day. His mom was quick to shut him down, too, though she was more gentle about it.

They pushed him about everything - sports, making friends, being normal. They raved over Dante and his music recitals and his school trips and the way he had a girlfriend by the time he was fifteen. So normal, such a good boy.

They never wanted to hear Cisco talk. Everything he became, everything he loved, his job, the lab, the science, every bit of it only reminded them of their lost firstborn. They had first noticed Cisco’s interest when he had Armando’s blood on his hands, so that’s what they always saw.

 

* * *

 

 

Joe’s face was creased, his eyes too bright. That whole thing he did when he was upset but trying to be the solid, responsible one for the rest of them.

Cisco grinned awkwardly into the silence. “Anyway. When I was thirteen and testing to get into Central City High School, that’s when I first found out that the theory I thought I was discovering when I was ten was old news. Newton and his three laws of motion, basic physics. You’d think I’d’ve been disappointed, but it was awesome. Suddenly there were whole books I could read about this revelation that people thought I was crazy for.”

Joe returned the smile uncertainly.

“And Newton was just the beginning. Everything I tried to grasp as a kid was already written in books. Motion, relativity, mass and speed and time – it was all dissected already. Planck, Keppler. Einstein. Harrison Wells.” His grin went crooked. “So many names, so many theories. All I had to do was learn them. Which was cool, because sitting in my room with stacks of library books made the whacked-out home life way more tolerable.”

He waved a hand when Joe opened his mouth to say something. “I mean, I get it. I know looking back why everything got so messed up. I was probably a little crazy, trying to make people see how beautiful this thing that killed my brother ten feet away from me had been. I can’t imagine how my folks felt, burying their pride and joy and listening to their weird kid raving about the science behind it.”

He spoke lightly, but couldn’t help wishing he’d thought to get himself a drink before he started talking about all this. With Joe there they usually had a bottle of wine or two these days. “When I say it’s my fault things are how they are, I mean that.”

“You were ten.” Joe’s voice was hoarse.

Cisco nodded. “And pretty traumatized. Double whammy of exonerating evidence. But it’s not that easy, is it? My folks were traumatized too, I can’t exactly blame them. I spent weeks illustrating Armando being shot, talking enthusiastically about the arc of bullets. It wasn’t their fault they were repulsed by that.”

Joe shook his head slowly, but his gaze drifted to the side. Thinking, maybe, about how he himself might have reacted, if it was his kids. Iris dead and Barry asking for another red crayon because he’d used his up.

Cisco didn’t blame his folks for being horrified by him, and being unable to shake it fourteen years later. He was pretty damn horrified himself when he thought back on it for too long.

“I needed the coping mechanism,” he said. “But I hurt them with it, again and again, and that can’t just be brushed aside, you know? Mention the lab, my job, my degrees, they see a blood-stained sidewalk, wilting flowers and burning candles and pictures propped up around it.” He shrugged. “I can’t blame them. It is what it is. It just sucks dealing with it.”

Joe’s answering frown was troubled. “They love you. I could see that much.”

“Yeah, I never had much doubt of that.” Cisco wasn’t sure it was better, knowing that they didn’t like him or what he loved or who he became, but they still loved him despite himself. “Sometimes I think it would be easier if they actually hated me.”

Joe looked away with a furrowed brow, deep in thought. “Maybe if they knew…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Trying to dream up a solution, no doubt, to this decade-old dilemma and its many complications.

Cisco smiled suddenly. “You’re really not good at listening to problems that you can’t solve, are you?”

Joe’s gaze returned to him, and after a moment his brow smoothed. “Not really. Though after Barry you’d think I’d be used to them. I’m sorry,” he said, holding out a hand. “For what that’s worth.”

Cisco accepted the hand, unable to not enjoy the warm press of his fingers, the slight callouses up his index finger. “It’s worth a lot, Joe.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was a relief to go into Singh’s office and actually see Singh sitting there. It always was a relief, but Joe felt it more acutely after the week before.

“What’s up?” David waved him in, though his eyes went right back to his computer. No doubt he had a thousand emails to catch up on.

“Need you to look up a case for me.” Joe dropped a post-it on his desk: _36857.04_

“And you can’t do it yourself because…”

“Not ours. Robbery’s.” And Joe could have looked it up himself, but it would have triggered a message to the head of Robbery. David pulling up the file wouldn’t trigger anything.

Which David knew very well, and put together fast. He peered at Joe, hands dropping from his keyboard. “Something happen with Duke that I should know about?”

Joe shrugged. “It was a pretty uneventful week, actually. But.”

David’s eyebrows shot up.

Joe waved a hand. “Just a feeling. Instinct.”

“Mm. Him sitting my desk last week wasn’t my choice, you know.”

“I know.” Joe blinked. “You get bad vibes off him too?”

“Well. I can’t help wondering. When Whitman was ready to quit and decided to finally tell someone about what was happening to him…”

Joe drew in a breath, thinking about it. “Why you, and not his actual boss?”

“Maybe because I’m out, and he knew I’d get it. But maybe something more. I emailed him this morning, thinking about it, but no answer yet. And I doubt he’ll say anything concrete. Bad vibes aren’t the kind of thing a detective throws a lieutenant under the bus for.”

Joe nodded. Thin blue line. He nodded at the post-it. “The case was Whitman’s, apparently, but Robbery doesn’t have it and I don’t either.”

David grabbed it, squinting at the number. “I’ll print you out everything.”

“Thanks.” Joe turned for the door.

“Hey. How’s…everything going?”

Joe hesitated, thinking about dinner at the Ramon house and the quiet, solemn talk afterwards. How he’d clutched Cisco to him that night as they fell asleep, not even worrying that he didn’t have unconsciousness as an excuse for getting up close and personal. The way Cisco clung to him instead of questioning it.

He sighed. “It’s not staying as simple as I’d like it to,” he admitted after a moment.

David’s eyebrows flew up. “Undercover’s like that.”

“Yeah.” But Joe couldn’t have said more even if he wanted to. He had a job here: stay professional, handle business, catch the bad guy. He wasn’t about to forget that, not because of a sad childhood story and Cisco Ramon breathing against his chest in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Barry was waiting for him at his desk when David dismissed him. “Hey.”

“Morning. You were out a lot this weekend.”

“Helping Oliver with something.”

Joe made a face before he could stop himself.

Barry laughed. “See, that’s why I didn’t tell you beforehand. Anyway, it wasn’t anything dangerous. CSI-type-stuff, really.”

“Anything that’s gonna show up in Central City?”

“Nope.”

“Mm.” Joe eyed him dubiously, but moved past him and sat down at his desk. “What’s up?”

“Um.”

Joe peered up at him.

Barry glanced around at the busyness of the squad room floor. “Nothing. Just. We didn’t get to talk after Friday.”

Ahh. Joe sighed and pushed right back to his feet. “Come on, I’ll walk you up to the lab.”

Barry grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

Once they were on the stairs and safely away from potential listeners, Barry spoke again. “Okay. I think I owe you an apology.”

“Probably,” Joe said easily, before looking over at him. “But specifically, for what?”

“Cisco.”

Joe blinked, but jogged up the last few steps and followed Barry down the corridor and into his lab.

Barry didn’t stall long. “Okay, you know how when you first told us about you guys, I said I was waiting for the punchline?”

“Yep.”

“Well...I kinda...kept waiting? Even after we talked. It just didn’t seem….you know? Real, I guess? Or maybe I just couldn’t picture it, or whatever.” He sighed. “So I didn’t believe it. Which is dumb, I know, because that’s not the kind of prank you’d ever pull. And the way everyone around here keeps talking about it...you’d never risk your job that way.”

Joe hesitated, trying not to feel too guilty. “Not for a prank, no way.”

“Yeah. Anyway.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out. “I guess it didn’t really seem real to me until Friday. And now…” He grinned. “It’s weird, but now I don’t get how you two ever got away with hiding it.”

Joe chuckled. “People don’t see what they don’t look for.”

“I guess. Anyway. It wasn’t...I mean, it wasn’t even what I saw when I first…”

Joe’s face heated, but thankfully Barry’s cheeks went the kind of red that meant he wasn’t gonna keep that sentence going.

“It was the rest of it. The movie and everything. You guys are just...I don’t know. It was nice to see you like that.” He shrugged, awkward as ever. “You looked happy.”

Joe hesitated, but spoke honestly. “I was. I am.”

Barry smiled then, crooked and sweet. “I’m glad. For both of you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Joe couldn’t pinpoint the stage of this assignment where kissing Cisco - hello or goodbye or any other time it felt natural - had started happening whether they might be watched or not. He told himself it didn’t matter, it was just exercising a reflex, getting used to the action so that it seemed more natural in public.

But with a couple of glasses of wine in him and Cisco’s leg pressed against his on the couch, it seemed like Joe wasn’t thinking about the job at all. It seemed like he was just enjoying this, the way Cisco’s arm shifted against Joe as he laughed at some movie, the way he glanced over to include Joe when something happened. To make sure Joe was as involved as he was.

Sliding his fingers through Cisco’s had become a pleasant habit when they had these movie nights. Cisco seemed to think so too. He never tensed up, never seemed to be surprised by it. His hand just curled warm around Joe’s, and they went on watching.

It was times like these that Iris’s words at the beginning of all this came back to him. She’d said that what they were doing by faking a real relationship actually felt a lot like a genuine relationship. Joe had dismissed it. He knew how to separate a role from his life.

But this. This _was_ his life, for now. He left the job behind and came to this small apartment and sat on this comfortable couch and held hands with a man who sent him easy smiles in return.  

It wasn’t a relationship. He had to keep telling himself that these days. It wasn’t real. The smiles Cisco shot him were theatre. The joined hands were stage directions. This wasn’t his life, this was his assignment. Blurring any of that was dangerous.

Yeah, they were shut up in Cisco’s apartment, but the curtains were wide open. Third floor, but who knew how committed their stalker might be to getting the kind of photos he’d tormented Whitman with. Who knew what minute of what hour of what night he might come and take a peek in or get a few pictures.

It was the job. The job. One hundred percent the job.

Which didn’t make Cisco pressed up against his side any less warm, or his hand any less solid. It didn’t make his laughter less likely to make Joe smile.

Didn’t make Joe feel any less excited, even happy, that when work was done he had somewhere to go. Not a quiet house to sit alone and wonder if any of his kids were gonna be around, but a small, hectic apartment with Cisco’s smiling face and warm greeting and his kiss hello.

It didn’t calm the butterflies in his stomach that had started erupting whenever Cisco would get up to get them drink refills or to grab pizza from a delivery guy, and then lean in every time he sat back down and smack a light, easy kiss against Joe’s lips.

Joe would kiss him back, every time, and murmur something about how practice was paying off, or how good it was that they were getting so natural at it. But even then the reminder of what this actually was - job, job, job - didn’t make his lips tingle any less.

He was reluctant to pull away.

He was reluctant to break the peaceful TV spell he was getting so used to. He almost started to tell Cisco about talking to Barry earlier, but stopped himself. The whole thing had left Joe feeling guilty more than anything, and would probably hit Cisco the same way. No point in that, when they were both otherwise in a pretty decent mood.

He couldn’t help feeling a little...protective, maybe, of Cisco suddenly. Not to keep him safe - that urge had hit as soon as that threatening letter came, and wasn’t going anywhere - but to keep him smiling. Seemed to Joe that nobody had been really _careful_ with Cisco in a long time. Maybe since that thing with his brother when he was ten. He was overdue a little pampering.

Someone ought to keep that smile on his face, damn it. It was a nice smile.

“Oh man!” Cisco sat up suddenly, elbow neatly avoiding digging into Joe’s side. “I forgot! Um. That letter? From the guy?”

Joe frowned, forgetting the movie (Beverly Hills Cop, because it was Joe’s turn to pick and he wanted to prove he could handle bad police portrayals when it was worth it). “What about it?”

“It kind of occurred to me earlier that I could probably vibe it. I mean, if I focus I should be able to tell exactly who it came from, boom. Case closed.”

“Oh.” Joe blinked, sitting up more slowly, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah, good idea.” He frowned, thinking about it. “I left it at the station, just in case this guy broke into my place like he did Whitman’s. I could go...”

“No! No, it’s cool. I mean, it’ll keep until tomorrow, right?” Cisco shot him a tight grin. “Bring it home with you, or whatever.”

Joe nodded after a pause. “Yeah. Yeah, it’ll keep.” He sat back again, frowning. After a moment he turned his eyes back to the TV.

Cisco slouched in against him after a few seconds.

Joe’s arm shifted back around him.

For some reason it was suddenly even harder to focus on the movie than it had been.

 

* * *

 

 

The break-ins on 5th Ave were four related cases that Whitman had connected and filed under the original case’s number. Same MO, businesses all along the same street, all pretty high-value. Art, jewelry, clothes, and more jewelry.

Whitman was still listed as lead detective. Nobody had been reassigned to it, like his others.

“Maybe an oversight,” Singh had confirmed as he handed Joe the makeshift file he’d put together from everything digital he could scrounge up on it. “But maybe not.”

Joe was leaning towards not. But short of accusing the lieutenant in charge of Robbery of being a thief on the side, he wasn’t sure what motive there was to deliberately misfile the case. They were pretty high-value robberies, especially when put together, but nothing worth potentially sacrificing a stellar career. Major Crimes took all the robberies over a certain dollar amount as it was. Joe had already had a few himself, even before getting Whitman's cases.

“Detective West?”

Joe looked up from the file, surprised to be addressed formally but instantly putting on his Responsible Cop expression. “That’s me, how can I...”

A familiar face regarded him as the man approached his desk.

Joe’s greeting died out, and he sat back in his chair. “Dante Ramon.” He gestured at the chair beside his desk. “Have a seat. I take it you’re not here to report a crime.”

A look flashed over Dante’s face and then left again. It was a vaguely familiar look, something he’d seen Cisco make when he was debating whether or not to make one of his worse jokes.

But Dante didn’t make a joke. He sat, eyes going around the room in interest.

“Cisco might’ve told you I’m kind of a screw up. But this is the first time I’ve seen the inside of a police station. Guess I could be worse.”

“He hasn’t told me anything like that, actually. But it’s probably better for all of us if I don’t have to arrest you for anything, so just as well.”

Dante looked back at him, smiling slightly.

He was a striking man. He had Cisco’s dark eyes and golden brown skin, but shaped into an older, more angular package. All cheekbones and jaw. His smile had more inherent charm in it than Cisco’s.

Dante Ramon might have been a far more believable partner for Joe in this assignment he was in the middle of than his younger brother was. All in all, though, Joe preferred Cisco’s long hair and bright grins and rounder features. His t-shirts over the inexpensive but perfectly fitted suit Dante was wearing.

Joe waited. If Dante had come for the reason he suspected, he wanted to let him get to it without any diversions.

“Our folks liked you,” Dante said suddenly. “Mom keeps hoping she’ll spot you on the news.”

Joe huffed out a breath. “If I never have reason to get on the news again I’ll be happy.”

“Mm.” Dante’s eyes didn’t have Cisco’s intensity, but his stare wasn’t entirely ineffective. “How old are you?” he asked suddenly.

Joe nearly laughed at the bluntness. “Too old for Cisco, if that’s what you’re getting at. Took me a long time to come to terms with that, but I have. Mostly.”

Dante gave another quiet ‘mm’, his gaze never wavering.

Joe’s eyebrows hiked up, but he waited. He was a patient man, he’d sat through many a reluctant confession before. Dante had something on his mind, he’d get to it eventually.

Meantime, if Dante thought he’d make nervous small talk or offer him a coffee or something...well, he should have been nicer to his brother the other night.

Dante’s gaze broke before Joe’s did. He sent another slow gaze around the room. “People here know about you two?”

“Unfortunately.”

Dante’s eyebrows rose.

Joe opened his drawer to reveal a stack of Playgirls he’d found on his desk two days after the news broke. “Cops aren’t known for their class.”

Dante stared into the drawer. A moment later he broke into a quiet laugh. “Tacky, I like it. I shoulda been a cop, I’d fit right in.”

“That much Cisco _has_ told me.” He gave in, shutting the drawer and facing Dante squarely. “We’ve known each other almost three years. We’ve been together more than one. It’s not exactly easy sometimes, but we’ve gone through a lot together. If you want to know anything beyond that, I’m gonna have to tell you to mind your own business.”

Dante’s grin faded, his eyes taking on a darker speculation as Joe talked. “Just one thing, then.”

Joe gestured for him to ask.

“What are you getting out of this?”

Joe’s brow furrowed.

“I’m serious. What do you see in him? He’s smart, I know, heard it all my life, but you’re a normal guy, not some genius rocket scientist or something. If you’re not into him because he’s so much younger, what’re you getting out of it?”

From the look on his face, openly curious and a little suspicious, Dante meant exactly what he said. As if he really believed that the only two things Cisco Ramon could be classified as were ‘smart’ and ‘young’.

Joe frowned when he saw that, shaking his head all over again that this was Cisco’s brother, someone who should have known him better than that.

“The only thing his age and his smarts did for me was stop me from making a move on him, for a long damn time.” He glanced around to confirm no one was close by, and lowered his voice to answer. “You know about his work with The Flash.”

Dante’s eyes went wide, but he nodded. His hands came up, fingers rubbing together absently. “You do too, then?”

“That’s how I came to know Cisco. Because of his work at STAR. Not the genius engineering stuff, the Flash stuff. I’ve seen him step into danger that would terrify most of the guys here, guys who’ve had training and carry guns. I’ve seen how his brain works in these ridiculous, creative ways. I’ve seen how much hope he has, and how genuine and loyal he is even with his back against a wall and his life on the line. I know what he did to protect you when you were at risk.”

Dante swallowed, watching as his fingers flexed and relaxed absently.

“I trust very few people as much as I trust Cisco Ramon, and his brain and his age ain’t got a damn thing to do with that.”

Dante looked up from his hands as Joe talked, some faint surprise in his face at the vehement response. But he relaxed a little, too, his shoulders loosening. He looked at Joe hard, like he wanted to see any lies cracking his expression.

Joe returned the look easily. He was a good liar, but even so. Not a damn word of that had been a lie.

Wasn’t that a hell of a thing?

Dante sat back slowly. “He is smart, though. The kinda smart they write books about, even. Beautiful Mind stuff. But there’s a lot he doesn’t know about. He’s naive. I mean, he trusted me way longer than he should have, and I was a complete bastard most of his life. So he’s easy to take advantage of. You can understand why I’d be worried.”

“I do,” Joe said easily. “And I can’t say I’m upset you showed up to grill me. I’m glad, matter of fact. If it were my kid bringing home a man my age, my gun might’ve made an appearance over dinner.” He considered that and frowned. “But your parents like me.”

Dante shrugged, but seemed to see what he was getting at a moment later. “They have a weird relationship with Cisco. Always have, feels like. They love him, he loves them. But he didn’t really need them to be _parents_ , so they don’t much act like it with him.”

Joe let out a breath, trying not to think too hard about how Cisco’s voice shook when he told Joe the story of their estrangement. “You believe that?”

Dante nodded. “He wasn’t like me. I was a screw-up. He knew everything he needed to about who he was and where he was going by the time he was…”

“Ten?”

Dante looked hard at him.

Joe stood up. “I don’t have enough time left in my entire shift to tell you why you’re wrong. But you are. There’s no way you could be _more_ wrong. And it’s a damn shame that I know that and you don’t. If there’s nothing else, Mr. Ramon, I need to get back to work.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, I hear sirens. Should I hang here?”

Cisco leaned in and spoke into the mic. “Go for it. Nothing else going on, you might as well head back to work when they arrest the guy.”

“Gotcha. Ohh...oh, dude.” Barry’s voice curled upwards. “I think he just peed. Come on, man, you didn’t kill a guy or anything. Ugh. Who _pees_?”

Cisco barked out a laugh. “All of us, last time I checked. Didn’t get it on my suit, did he?”

“Our suit remains clean. Ish. And there’s the cop car, sweet, their problem now. Hit me up if you need me again.”

“Over and out,” Cisco said cheerfully, sitting back and flipping the connection off. It was no evil metahuman battle, but picking up a creep who purse-snatched an old lady was a nice use of five minutes.

Caitlin came in as he was scanning idly for anything else Barry might need to help with before he took an entire attosecond to change. “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Smooth and easy. Barely a felony, even. I told Barry to head back to work.”

“Good. Harry’s asking for you,” she added with a twist to her smile.

“Of course he is.” Ten minutes he’d been away from Harry, helping Barry. They were getting close to Earth 3 portals, but holy crap did Harry make him suffer for it.

His phone buzzed just as Cisco was debating getting to his feet and finding Harry. He pulled it out and blinked at a couple of texts coming in at once.

From Barry: _I told the guy ‘URINE big trouble’ as the cops pulled up. Do you think he got it or was the pun too subtle? I’m working on tightening up my hero banter._

And, more interesting if less amusing, from Joe: _I’m at the front door. Come let me in._

“Huh. Joe’s here. I’ll be right back.”

Caitlin’s eyes went wide in interest, her smile shifting upwards on one side.

Cisco ignored it, heading out into the corridor to the elevator, even as he texted Barry that his idea of ‘subtle’ needed some help.

When he reached the dusty front doors a few minutes later (it really was an incredibly inconvenient entrance these days, though he knew why Joe was using it), Joe saw him coming through the glass and lofted a Big Belly Burger bag with a faint smile.

“Oooh.” Cisco unlocked the door fast and let him in, leaning up to greet him with a hello kiss without actually thinking much about it. “Lunch! This is special.”

“It’s just burgers. And you’re not telling Iris about it.” Joe moved in. “I needed an excuse to spend a while here.”

“Ahh.” Cisco reached for the bag. “Good enough for me. What’s up?”

They headed back down the corridor. Nothing to see here, evil guy, just two happy boyfriends spending an hour on lunch. No big, nothing weird, don’t focus too hard on anything.

“One, I brought you that letter.”

Cisco kept his feet moving and his voice casual. Mostly. “Oh. Okay. Nice.”

“And two.” Joe sighed. “Your brother stopped by the station.”

“Dante?” Cisco blinked. “Reporting a crime or something?” he asked before jamming a fistful of fries down his throat. Harry Wells was hungry work, damn it.

Joe made a face at him, but reached over and plucked some fries from the bag. “I think it was supposed to be his version of a shovel talk.”

“Hah!” Cisco’s steps did stall then. “Wait, really?”

“Yep. Wanted to know if we were out at the station, what I saw in you, whole thing.”

“Wow.” Cisco considered that, and peered at Joe. Then he dug a few more fries out of the bag, getting himself moving again. “Bet you won him over.”

Joe actually looked a little rueful. “Actually…”

Cisco laughed. “What, did you fight with him?”

“Mix of both, I think.” Joe shrugged and chomped on his fries.

Cisco couldn’t help a grin. He couldn’t help the tingle of warmth overtaking him as he thought about it. Dante, giving a shit. Joe, letting him have it. He wasn’t sure which one got to him more. Probably Dante’s part, but mostly because that was _entirely_ unexpected.

“Oh, better give me the letter now. You’re likely to get the third degree once anybody sees you.”

Joe sighed, but fished the letter out of his pocket and handed it over.

It seemed crumpled and smoothed over again, worse for wear, but Cisco didn’t look at it too hard. He shoved it in his pocket, deliberately not flexing his vibe focus quite yet. Lunch first, at least.

Caitlin gave Joe a huge smile as they came in, moving around her console. “Hi, Joe! Feels like it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

Joe returned her offered hug easily. “Hey yourself. Number three no cheese make up for it?”

She beamed and grabbed the bag from Cisco. “Good start.”

He huffed out a breath but didn’t protest as she went to the nearest counter to fish her food out. He turned back to Joe, grinning again instantly. “You know, I’m surprised he hasn’t texted me yet.”

“Who? Oh. Well. He didn’t seem mad when he left, exactly. Though...I might have mentioned my gun at one point.”

Cisco laughed. “You did not!”

“Mentioned. Idly. Not directed at him whatsoever.” Joe smiled, smooth and innocent.

Cisco grinned, latching onto his side without thinking about it. “In that case I should text _him_ , make sure Barry’s perp is the only one smelling like pee today.”

“Barry’s what now?”

Cisco started to fill him in on the Great Urine Pun of 2016, but trailed off right from the start when he noticed that they had a silent observer.

Caitlin met his gaze, grin splitting her face, fry coming up to her mouth slowly. She gestured for him to go on.

He stuck out his tongue at her, and only when he turned his focus back to Joe did he consciously realize that he was basically sealed to his side like a lamprey, and Joe’s arm was at his back, hand trailing up and down a few absent inches in slow strokes.

He flushed, but wasn’t quite surprised at himself enough to pull away. He just sent her a grin, thinking about every time her and Ronnie had gleefully made him too self-conscious to walk into rooms without knocking. Even when those rooms didn’t have doors.

She didn’t seem particularly self-conscious, though. A little smug, maybe, but definitely not self-conscious.

 

* * *

 

“Ahh.”

Cisco’s cheerful voice cut off instantly. If Joe hadn’t been watching him closely, he wouldn’t have noticed the flare of something like worry that came and went across his face before he looked over Joe’s shoulder.

But he did catch it, and it made something in his spine feel stiff as he chucked his burger wrapper in the empty bag and turned to the door.

Harry stood in the center of the doorway into the cortex, dramatic as ever, arms folded across his chest as he stared out at them. “I suppose this is why I’ve been working alone the last hour.”

Caitlin had finished her food a few minutes ago, but she’d been content to sit around and watch the two of them - Joe hadn’t missed her watching, she didn’t seem to try to be subtle about it - as they ate. She stood up then, though, and moved around the counter towards her own usual station.

“Harry.” Joe offered a polite smile. “Couple of extra burgers if you’re hungry.”

“Joe.” Harry moved in, slow, eyes going from Cisco to Joe and back again. “Here I thought you were avoiding the place.”

“Why would I do that?”

Harry’s eyes darted back to Cisco. “My mistake, then. Glad to hear it.”

Joe chuckled easily. “When have you ever been glad to be wrong about anything?”

There was some kind of tension in the air, he wasn’t ignoring that. He was just choosing not to acknowledge it. Cisco had filled him in more than once lately about Harry being a pill, and given how Harry normally behaved that had to mean something above and beyond basic rudeness.

Still, Harry was attempting civility, so Joe matched him with normalcy.

“So...how’re things on Earth 2? How’s Jesse?”

“Well enough, last I saw her. Of course I wasn’t planning to be here so long when I left.” Harry’s eyes were still on Cisco. “And on that note...Mr. Ramon, if you’re done with the lunch break?”

Cisco smiled, tight around the edges. “Come have a burger, Harry. Chill. Joe’s gotta head back to work in a few anyway.”

“Do I have to remind you how far behind we already are?”

“According to whose made-up schedule?”

“Ramon.”

“Harry. Eat. You’re a walking Snickers commercial these days.”

Harry scowled, and it got deeper when Joe found himself chuckling. A few weeks ago he wouldn’t have gotten it, but he was watching a hell of a lot of TV lately.

Cisco shot Joe a much more sincere smile.

“For god’s sake.” Harry’s voice was barely a murmur, poisonous, but he turned on his heel and marched back out of the cortex.

Cisco relaxed instantly. He slouched back in his chair, grabbing a last stray fry that had somehow escaped his earlier vacuuming up. “Hey, are you guys still working on that...the thing you were telling me about?” he asked Caitlin. “Because he sure as hell acts like his life ends when I take off on him.”

“The thing?” Joe repeated, amused.

Cisco turned a little pink. “Just a project.”

“That’s right, just a project.”

Joe frowned and turned back around.

Apparently Harry had changed his mind about storming off. He moved in this time, rather than being content to haunt the doorway. His eyes were on Joe. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it, do you?”

Joe shrugged, though something in his spine was starting to sharpen right back up again. It wasn’t hard to see the challenge in Harry’s eyes. “Not really my territory.”

“No. It’s not. But here you are, interfering in it as you have done so often recently.”

“Harry.” Cisco straightened and sent him a scowl. “Knock it off. Besides, you’re the one who kept pointing out that Joe hasn’t even been coming around lately.”

“Obviously he doesn’t need to be here to be a distraction.”

“Which is my fault, not his, so take your crap out on me if you’re gonna go after somebody.”

Joe opened his mouth to speak up - he could handle an adversarial asshole, no problem, came with the job - but he hesitated when he saw the flash of Harry’s eyes as they moved from Joe to Cisco.

There was something there. Something almost familiar. Like when Harry had first told them about Jesse. Something _pained_ about his anger. Though with Jesse safe and sound Joe wasn’t sure what could be upsetting the guy.

Unless…

Joe’s eyes narrowed, and he watched the slight changes as Harry’s attention landed on Cisco.

“Unfortunately you seem to be impervious to my ‘crap’ these days,” Harry said, terse. “Which is infuriating for its own reasons. I told you once that I don’t work well with people, even on my own earth. But usually those people who work closely with me are smart enough to take my criticism seriously, however harsh it might be, and to learn from it. But you seem entirely incapable of improving yourself, Ramon, why is that?”

“Last I checked you weren’t my boss or my teacher, so.” Cisco shrugged, but he was tense. His eyes were wary.

“I think you’re happy being stagnant,” Harry said, answering his own question as as if Cisco hadn’t spoken. “You’re too scared to reach your true potential. I thought that fear was limited to your powers, but I can see it’s not. And there is nothing so frustrating as a potentially brilliant mind wasting itself.”

“Listen, _dad_.”

“To what? Are you going to say something worth listening to, unlike every other thing you’ve said the last couple of weeks?”

Caitlin shifted over by her computer. Joe glanced over, but she was standing awkwardly, looking at her monitors, her mouth creased.

Obviously this tension was nothing new. Joe should have taken Cisco’s gripes about Harry’s attitude more seriously.

“When I think of the things that are wasted on you, Ramon.” Harry shook his head, arms folded across his chest, eyes flashing blue and cold. “The intelligence you never want to apply, the creativity you waste on meaningless things. The way you choose to...to be close to people whose minds will never challenge you.”

Joe’s eyebrows lofted.

“These powers. These incredible powers that could grow to make you the single most powerful metahuman I’ve ever heard about, that you waste and ignore and dread until they stagnate. Until you can’t even open a simple portal to a new dimension without weeks of training.”

Cisco’s shoulders were tight, but his burning gaze was directed at the ground between him and Harry. He was silent.

Silent in his own defense, at least, when he had been quick to speak up for Joe.

“You want to know why you haven’t heard Caitlin mention that project lately?”

“Harry...” Caitlin’s voice was alarmed enough to grab Joe’s focus. The tight set of her features when he looked over were as good as a warning alarm.

Harry ignored her. He jabbed a finger in the air in Cisco’s direction. “Because it’s impossible. It’s a problem without a solution. There is absolutely no physiological reason why you get those headaches, so there’s nothing we can do to stop them. You, Mr. Ramon, appear to be chosen by fate or dark matter to _suffer_ . And I can’t say I disapprove. What I can’t figure out is whether it’s because of that pain that your powers are so mind-bogglingly inconsistent that you’re _worse_ than useless to me, or if the pain is _punishment_ for not using what you’ve got.”

Cisco winced as he talked, glancing over at Caitlin but looking away again fast. His shoulders were all but bowed, and though there was some anger in his eyes he didn’t speak up.  

And it was the way Cisco held himself that did Joe in. He looked like a man under enemy fire, who knew nobody was coming to his rescue. Like he had to stand there and take the blasts. He at least recognized bullshit when he heard it, but didn’t defend against it.

Despite the fact that Caitlin and Joe were there (and Joe suspected it would be the same even if Barry and Iris and Wally were around), Cisco stood like a man alone. It reminded Joe of how he sat at his parents’ dinner table, silent and resigned to a lack of any indication that he meant something to his family beyond routine politeness.

Harry’s gaze didn’t move from Cisco. He saw the shoulder slump, Joe bet. He saw the defeat in it. He _enjoyed_ it. What the hell kind of man was this?

Jesus, it wasn’t even an unfamiliar look. Cisco had stood just that way facing Harry before, or Barry sometimes, even, in his occasional accusing tempers. Joe just never put it into context before. He never paid enough attention.

He hadn’t known Cisco well enough to understand it.

“You know...” Joe said even as Harry opened his mouth for another volley. He straightened and faced Harry dead-on, though his voice was low and level in that way his kids and every cop in Major Crimes knew to watch out for. “Right this second my biggest regret is that I haven’t knocked you the hell out over this before now.”

Harry blinked, gaze edging to Joe, eyebrows rising. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Joe moved away from the counter and got between Harry and Cisco in a way that was unmistakable.

“I regret that now that you know about our relationship, you’re gonna think that’s why I’m about to punch you in your smug mouth. You’re gonna think it’s sex, or hormones. But it’s not. I should have done it sooner. I should have done it the first time you ever used him for his brains and then treated him like he was useless the moment you were done.”

He had to give Harry credit, the man had an epic eye-roll. “Detective, stay out of--”

Joe stepped in towards him and was gratified to see Harry back up a step.

His voice stayed level. “You use his ideas, you use his inventions, you use his visions. You use his portal to bring your ungrateful ass back to this world. And you treat him like a rag you can wad up and toss out when you’re done with it. So when I hit you right now, Wells, when I beat your narrow ass into this nice clean floor, please don’t think it’s any kind of macho boyfriend thing. I’m doing it because you’re a cruel person, and the next time you talk to someone I care about the way you just talked to Cisco, I’m gonna do it again. And again. Until you have no teeth left to talk through. Got me?”

There was dead silence through the cortex. To his left Caitlin was entirely eyes as she looked between Harry and Joe.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to look back at Cisco.

For his part, Harry’s eyes were steady on Joe’s. A little wider than normal, but his jaw was clenched and he seemed determined not to back down now that he knew this was a real fight.

Then his gaze slid behind Joe, and his mouth tilted upward the slightest bit.

“I think I’m starting to understand what you see in him,” he said, looking away from them. There was a smirk on his face but surrender in the way he turned.

Joe glared at him, unsure if he was in the mood to just let this go or not. He’d been letting it go too damn long already. They all had.

“No.” Cisco’s answer came suddenly, his voice free of the tension of just a minute ago. His footsteps were soft as he approached and stood beside Joe. He slid a hand through Joe’s arm. “You don’t understand. You will never ever ever _ever_ understand.”

Joe looked down at him, his hand clasping over Cisco’s possessively.

Cisco stared up at him, eyes still wide, dazed, but absolutely radiant. He smiled at Joe, a wide eye-crinkling epic kind of smile, and for a moment Joe felt like the damn Flash himself, super powerful and ready to take on the world.

Joe turned to face him, content to ignore Harry Wells entirely now that his point was made. “I do have to head back to work.”

Cisco, beaming, nodded.

“You can come with if you want. Plenty of consulting you could be doing.”

“Nah.” Cisco didn’t look away. “Work to do here, worlds to discover, all that. It’ll be okay.” There wasn’t a speck of apprehension in his eyes.

Joe relaxed seeing that. “Right. Well. Have fun ripping holes through space-time or whatever the hell.” He reached up without much thought, tucking long hair back behind Cisco’s ear. “See you tonight?”

Cisco didn’t bother answering, just hooked a hand around Joe’s neck and hauled him down.

Joe couldn’t help putting something a little extra into the kiss. Something possessive, almost. Or maybe he just wanted it to look that way. It went on a little too long for public viewing, but he was happy to make more than one point to Harry Wells, since it was obviously needed.

He felt a little breathless when Cisco finally let him go. A little warm. He couldn’t have hidden his own smile if he’d tried. “That felt like a yes to me.”

Cisco’s dazed eyes and lack of coherent response only made Joe stand even taller.

 

* * *

 

 

“You remember when you told me you thought Barry was jealous of us?”

Cisco laughed, rolling over on his side, dark eyes catching the faint light through the blinds. “And for a minute you thought I meant he wanted to hook up with one of us? Which, wow.”

Joe chuckled. “Don’t remind me. Besides, you’re the one who insisted you should have had some crush on him.”

“Mm. I say a lot of dumb things. So? What about it?”

“You really have no idea why Harry’s being such an incredible pain in the ass to you lately?”

“Joe, man, let me tell you, if I knew I’d be the first to…” He trailed off. “Wait.”

Joe nodded.

“No way.”

“I can read people. That is flat-out envy right there.”

Cisco rolled over on his back, whooshing out a breath. “No actual way, though.”

“Mm hm.”

“Who…which one of us...?”

Joe was pretty sure he knew - for a genius Harry Wells was not subtle - but instead of possibly making Cisco uncomfortable he just shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you for sure.”

There was a pause, and Joe could practically hear Cisco’s brain processing that, grinding out different possibilities and assessing past behaviors.

Then he laughed. It was sudden, sharp, and sent him rolling back over on his side. “Oh, man.”

Joe grinned through the darkness.

“Oh, man!” Cisco’s laughter wasn’t dying down. “That’s why he...the talk about Tess, and. This is...Harry’s _jealous_!”

Joe chuckled, shifting onto his side to face him, though the darkness didn’t show much more than a gleam of eyes, and a darker silhouette moving against the black of the night. “Hey,” he said, mild, “who could blame him? This is a pretty great thing we’ve got going on.”

“Hell yeah it is.” Cisco shifted in closer, still chuckling, the warmth of him tangible though there was still space between them. “I’m a little jealous of us myself.”

Joe huffed out a laugh, but absurd as it sounded...hell, he kind of was, too.

He settled on his back again and stretched out his arm. “Come on, get over here. You know you want to.”

Cisco made a quiet, amused kind of sound, but slid in as close as he typically was when he woke up. His head settled pillowed against Joe’s shoulder, and his arm dropped against Joe’s shirt, a warm, light press of weight.

Joe was going to regret this in a couple of hours when he woke up to a dead arm, but for the moment he felt nothing but content. Maybe it was that overprotective thing flaring up again, or some leftover urge to spite Harry Wells even when he wasn’t there.

He stopped wondering about it as Cisco lifted his head suddenly and tilted up, pressing a warm kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“Night, Joe.”

Joe’s arm came up around his back. He swallowed into the darkness, let his eyes shut. “Sweet dreams.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Guess who’s joining us tomorrow night for our semi-weekly West Family Gathering?”

Cisco slid into the chair across from Iris and returned her glowing smile easily. “I give up.”

She pointed a finger at him with a bright smile.

Cisco turned to look over his shoulder. “Wait, which one? The old dude by the window? Because yeah, he looks like he could get down back in the day.”

She reached out and swatted his arm. “Stop it. And before you say anything, Wally and Barry are both fine with it. It’ll be fun!”

“What about Joe? Is he fine with it?”

She peered at him. “ _Any_ way, it’s just dinner and probably some games or something. We keep it low key.”

“Iris.”

“Look, dad misses his kids, okay? His kids miss him. And.” She smiled slowly, lofting her cup of tea. “I want to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that had Barry so shook after movie night at your place last week.”

Cisco blinked, and felt his face going warm. “He said something about that?”

“I don’t know what kind of show you two put on, but he’s a convert now.”

Cisco grinned, but it felt hollow.

Show. Right.

It hadn’t felt like a show at the time. They sure as hell hadn’t been making out on the couch when he first walked in as a show. Well, a show for their potential stalker, maybe, though Cisco himself hadn’t been thinking about that dude in the slightest. But when Cisco had snuggled in close to Joe during the movie, that wasn’t a show at all. That was just how he was used to watching television now. It was just...what he wanted.

Performing a relationship wasn’t easy for him, even after all the recent practice. It felt wrong. The trouble was...things with Joe were feeling less and less wrong all the time. And not because Cisco was getting used to it. Because it wasn’t a performance. Not a bit of it.

All that ‘practice’ meant that he didn’t have to consciously think about it before he got close to Joe now, whether they were alone at his place or in the middle of the squad room. He didn’t have to flip some switch like he did at first, some ‘now act like you and Joe are a thing’ switch that felt so awkward.

He couldn’t quite manage to meet her eyes. “Seriously, what does Joe say? I’m really not sure he wants to bring you guys into it if he can help it.”

“Why not? He said family would be safe from this guy, right?”

“Yeah. But.” Cisco frowned, thinking. “If Barry has to do his  _thing_ with some guy pointing a camera at the house…”

She considered that. “Yeah. Okay, that’s a concern. But hey, what if we just make sure all the windows are closed and he doesn’t have a view? That way he’ll probably just get bored and leave.”

Cisco frowned and considered his untouched hot chocolate.

“Cisco.”

He stared harder at the drink. Looking at Iris was dangerous sometimes. “You’re right, it’ll probably be fine.”

“Cisco.”

“It’s cool, I’ll be there. I mean, if Joe’s okay with it, because I get the feeling you haven’t exactly talked to him about it yet.”

“I warned you about sometimes having to talk dad into doing things that are good for him.”

“And this is one of those things?”

She didn’t answer.

He gave in after a moment, dragging his gaze up to her.

Her eyes were wide, almost worried. She regarded him carefully.

Damn it.

He sighed and grabbed his drink. “I said yes, what else do you want from me?”

“Why did you want to say no? You wouldn’t have said no before this whole thing started.”

“Because!” He sat back, clamping his mouth closed. But of course that only survived one more look at Iris’s concerned face. “Because he’s not my boyfriend.” He glanced around, but they were meeting late in the morning and Jitters was never full between the morning and evening rushes. “Because I’m not any part of the West Family, am I? The relationship my parents now know about doesn’t really exist. I don’t have a happy long-term love affair, as much as I keep wishing it was real. And faking it is starting to…” He frowned, waving a hand wordlessly.

She nodded slowly. “I told my dad...it seems like a pretty fine line between pretending to date someone and actually dating someone.”

“Amen.” Cisco sighed.

He couldn’t help thinking - near-constantly, actually - about Joe confronting Harry the day before. Not even what he said specifically, or how he moved between then and took Harry’s intense glares on himself. Just the fact of it. That it happened at all.

He didn’t know how to reconcile it yet. So much of him wanted to just enjoy it, to feel warm and watched over and safe. To think that Joe would have done that any other time. To think Joe cared as much as he seemed to care lately.

But it wasn’t true. Joe only cared as much as he’d always cared. Which was something, of course, and Cisco had always appreciated it, but it was nothing like what he wanted.

In the end, he worried he’d have to feel about Joe the way he felt about his family: that it would be easier for everyone if they just didn’t like each other at all, because it hurt when people cared about him only because it was their obligation.

It had been a mistake to take Joe to meet his family. It was a mistake to invade Joe’s home and play this act in front of Joe’s kids, who were all his friends. If Cisco was smart he would have made this as routine as possible. They would have stuck to his apartment when they had to, played things up for the cameras, and that was it.

But there was never much chance of that, really. Not with their lives already being as wound together as they were.

Still. Damage control, right? Maybe he’d play sick tomorrow.

Maybe he’d stop stalling, vibe that stupid letter, and the whole thing could be over with before dinner.

 

* * *

 

He was late getting home - getting to Cisco’s apartment, more accurately - after agreeing to meet up with a couple of other detectives for a few beers. Nothing unusual in that, except that the absence of meta crime sprees and super-villains meant that Joe could actually accept the invite this time around.

It was a good time. He liked most of the detectives he worked with, and every now and then doing something new with different people was good for him. Even being subject to their teasing about Cisco had been good for him, since god knew they teased each other about their own relationships or lack thereof.

Still, fun or not, Joe was in a strange mood as he rode the rickety elevator up to the third floor and headed for Cisco’s door. Not quite melancholy, but not as cheerful as he’d acted at the bar. He’d let Cisco know what was going on before he went out, of course, so it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong.

He couldn’t figure out if it was instinct making him apprehensive, or paranoia, since they were probably overdue for another word or two from their psycho stalker.  Or maybe it was good old fashioned cynicism. The world had been too quiet in general lately, and Joe didn’t trust that. Especially these days.

When he unlocked the door and pushed it open, though, there didn’t seem to be anything horrible waiting for him. Cisco was on the couch, but instead of watching TV he had his feet kicked up on the coffee table and his laptop sitting on his thighs.

“Hey,” Joe greeted mildly as he locked the door behind him and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Hi, dear! Have fun with your little friends?” Cisco looked over, grinning easily.

The grin did a lot to settle Joe’s nerves. He smiled, and after a moment’s thought he headed for the fridge to grab another beer. Might as well.

“Yeah, wasn’t bad. You need a drink?”

“Hit me.”

Joe carried the two bottles around the couch and dropped with a sigh. He held one over, and Cisco plucked it from his hand without looking away from his screen.

Joe watched him for a moment, focused and typing in quick, clicking bursts between long pauses. “Work?”

“Yep. Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?”

Cisco hummed. He sipped the beer, then looked up to set it down on the table. He blinked when he caught Joe staring at him. “What?”

Joe shrugged, waving at the computer. “What’s the work?”

“Oh.” He blinked at the laptop screen, then back at Joe. “Just a new project. It’s for me, actually, so. Nothing I’d work on on lab time.”

“Why not? Is it Vibe stuff?”

“Sorta. Caitlin went over her research into that thing her and Harry were working on, and now I’m gonna figure it out myself.”

“Headaches, right?” He’d missed some of the aspects of what Harry was ranting about the day before, but he caught enough to know what was happening.

“Gnarly ones, every time I vibe something. And after all this experimenting with Harry it’s starting to happen when I focus on portals for too long, too.” Cisco sat up, folding his legs crosswise and re-positioning the laptop. “Caitlin says Harry was right, she can’t find a single physiological reason for the pain. Which means it ain’t coming from my physiology, which means it’s coming from outside. Maybe some kind of a dimensional defense system. I mean it’s not like other earths are _supposed_ to know about each other, so maybe introducing outside energy into this earth causes some kind of temporal friction which shoots right into my temple for a few hours at a time.”

“Sure.” Joe nodded amiably enough. “Temporal friction. Would’ve been my guess, too.”

Cisco grinned up at him. He twisted to lean back against the arm of the couch, uncurling his legs and kicking his feet up on Joe’s lap.

Joe blinked down at a pair of relatively clean if threadbare lime green socks. He chuckled, but dropped a hand down over Cisco’s ankle, accepting his role as pillow.

Cisco grinned all the brighter, relaxing. “Anyway, that’s it. If it is outside energy interference, I’m hoping I can come up with a dampener that’s small enough I can build it right into the goggles.”

“And what if Harry’s right and there’s no solution?”

“I stay stocked in Excedrin,” Cisco answered with a shrug. “But I will say, with all sincerity and deep, genuine emotional resonance: fuck Harry.”

Joe laughed. “Fuck Harry,” he agreed, lofting his bottle in salute. “He still giving you a hard time?” he asked with deliberate casualness.

Cisco beamed over the laptop. “He apologized, believe it or not. Second time he’s done that the last two weeks; it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Good. That’s the least he owes you.”

“It helps that I got the portal to Earth Three open this morning, and now we’re just working on stabilizing it enough to send Jay through. Should be done with Harry by the end of the week, fingers crossed.” He leaned over and grabbed his beer. “Oh...”

Joe followed his gaze and saw that Cisco’s Vibe goggles were sitting there further up the coffee table. “Oh?”

“I, uh. Brought this with me.” Cisco sighed and leaned to the side, fishing something from his pocket. “Figured I actually ought to vibe this thing. For some reason it keeps...I keep forgetting.”

“Ahh.”

Joe peered at the crumpled paper, feeling the sudden, heavy return of his earlier strange melancholy. Maybe that’s what it was, a pressing reminder of this case that they were no closer to solving. Some cop instinct, meant to remind him that there was evidence that he was neglecting.

He could be back in his own home by tomorrow. One more case closed, one more dirtbag locked up.

He took a long draw off the beer. “Look…”

“Yeah?”

“Morning,” Joe said, staring hard at the paper. “Let’s do it in the morning. Wake up a few minutes early. I can help you walk through it, and I can act on whatever we learn easier then.”

“Yeah, sure. Morning’s great,” Cisco agreed easily, like Joe’s postponing this wasn’t one more breach of professional protocol.

Well, it was a breach in _spirit_. Wasn’t like the CCPD had rules about vibing.

He was about fifty percent sure that Brian Duke was up to no good, though his brief time in Major Crimes had gone smoothly. If Cisco was going to see a police lieutenant in his vibe, that was definitely something that needed time to sort out.

If he was going to see someone completely different...well. There was still not much they could do about it tonight.

Joe sighed and glanced over at his beer on the coffee table, but didn’t grab it.

“Remote’s on your side if you want to watch something.” Cisco set that letter down on the table near the goggles.

“Nah.” Joe settled back in the corner of the couch and sighed. “A little quiet might be good for a change.”

Cisco smiled uncertainly but turned his focus back to the laptop. And for a while it was mostly silent, with those clacking interruptions whenever Cisco thought up something for his design.

Wasn’t anything Joe could help with, or even ask questions about beyond the simple stuff, so he didn’t say anything.

What was it Harry’d said? Something about Cisco sabotaging himself by being with people whose minds weren’t a challenge…or whatever. It was an insult, and it was not-at-all-subtly pointed at Joe, that was all that mattered.

There was some truth in the idea that Joe wasn’t the kind of guy who could keep up with Cisco when it came to science. There weren’t many people who could, probably. Joe had seen Cisco’s ideas leave even Barry and Caitlin blank-faced, and those two were the right kind of smart.

Poor deluded Harry, though. Thinking that for Cisco having matching IQs might be enough, and the best way to get his attention was the worst case of psychological pigtail-pulling Joe had ever seen. Probably with a poisonous dose of sour grapes on top to give it heat.

Joe knew Cisco better than Harry did. Knew him better even before this case ever started, he thought. He knew Cisco liked to turn off, that he was obsessed with his movies and things because it _wasn’t_ work, and Cisco needed an out from work. He somehow didn’t think Cisco would be happy with a guy like Harry, even if he got his shit together and started treating him right. Being able to work together well didn’t mean a damn thing for relationships.

Cisco didn’t talk much about work when he wasn’t at the lab. He brought it home sometimes - this wasn’t the first time his laptop had made an appearance on the couch - but he didn’t seem to want to. If the TV was going Cisco’s focus was always quick to leave his work, and whenever Joe offered to turn it off he was just as quick to say no.

Cisco wanted normality. He didn’t want to be challenged constantly. He wanted to be _happy_.

Joe wasn’t sure how Harry missed that about him, or if he knew and was hoping to change it. Either way…

Well. Fuck Harry.

Joe listened to the silence, the bursts of typing, the small, thoughtful sounds Cisco made. It was soothing. A way for Joe to drift up out of his weird heaviness, at least. For a while.

He had a flash of a memory, old and warm and happy. With a sudden smile he poked at Cisco’s socked feet. “You ticklish?”

“Hm?” Cisco blinked up at him over the laptop. “Um. Some places. Not feet, though, if that’s a threat by implication.”

Joe was so tempted to ask where those some places actually were that it took him a moment to remember where he’d actually been going with this.

He eyed those horrible neon socks and pinched at the toe of one, tugging it off.

Cisco twitched, eyeing him, his toes wriggling absently. “And now I spare a moment to thank god or whoever that Dante’s the one that inherited our dad’s janky feet.”

Joe laughed, pulling off his other sock. “I used to do this for Francine. Learned when she was pregnant and still finishing off her degree. Long days, she’d come home wiped out and sore all over.”

Cisco’s smile had faded a little at the mention of Francine. His eyes were wider, curious, but slid shut with a groan as Joe dug the pads of his thumbs into the sole of his foot. “Oh shit.”

Joe grinned, smug. He settled in and got to work, enjoying the way Cisco twitched and squirmed.

Francine’s feet were usually pretty swollen as the pregnancy went on. She used to run marathons in school, so she had some pretty hefty callouses built up, too. That was something Joe hadn’t thought about in a long damn time, those marathons. She never could talk Joe into trying them with her.

He wondered if she ever ran, after. In the entire life she’d lived after leaving him and Iris.

Cisco groaned and shoved the laptop off his legs and over onto the coffee table. He slumped back and shut his eyes decadently.

“Never understood what people saw in this kind of thing. Caitlin threatens to take me on her massage outings sometimes, but hasn’t happened yet.”

“Is it going to now?”

He laughed, sounding drowsy. “Why bother, I’ve got you.”

Joe smiled. He worked his knuckles into the arch of Cisco’s foot, feeling the little twitches that came from him fighting what tickle instincts he did have.

He spoke suddenly, slowly, without looking up at Cisco. “She got into a traffic scrape when Iris was about two years old.”

There was a pause. Joe focused on his hands, and the twitches of Cisco’s foot as he worked.

“My fault, really. I’d been working overnights for a while, and that always wiped me out during the day. I was useless to her for weeks. We could afford a babysitter, luckily, but she was on her own for groceries and bills and running everything. I think she was at the store, actually, when the accident happened.”

Cisco didn’t attempt to break the silence when Joe paused.

He sighed, thinking back with some determination. “We thought it was nothing. She came right home, waited until I woke up for work to tell me about it. Said it was a stupid little thing but we were gonna be stuck with an ugly scrape for a while, since getting it fixed was out of our budget. Nothing but surface damage. That’s what we thought.”

His hands slowed. He switched to Cisco’s other foot. He didn’t look up.

“She had a hard time sleeping that night, though. She was sitting up when I got home, reading. Said she had some pain in her back when she laid down.” He huffed out a soft breath, something that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been DOA. “Back injuries are evil,” he said with more strength. “Insidious damn things. Later the doctor said since the accident was so insubstantial she’d probably had that herniated disk for a while, without realizing it. Accident just snapped it out of place enough for her to really feel it. Couple weeks pass after the accident and she couldn’t stand it anymore, got an MRI. I knew it was bad because she never usually complained. Hell, she laughed off having Iris, said she didn’t know what all those women were warning her about. But she’d look at me sometimes, eyes wet, telling me it _hurt_ , and there was nothing...”

His eyes drifted up almost against his will.

Cisco was quiet, watching him. The smile was off his face, but he wasn’t entirely solemn. Just listening.

Joe gave him a faint smile, but from the furrow that appeared on Cisco’s brow he wasn’t sure he pulled it off. “Insurance was a pain about it,” he said, focus going back to the feet in his lap. “Asked for a second and third opinion. Meanwhile she’s taking these pain pills, more and more of them. Everybody thought Oxycontin was some kind of miracle drug back then.”

Cisco hissed in a faint breath. Not quite enough to disturb Joe’s train of thought.

Joe nodded. His hands had fallen off Cisco’s feet, and he reached out idly and toyed at the frayed cuff of his jeans.

“I told Iris...when I finally told her the truth, just months ago, I said…’your mother was a drug addict’. That’s how I thought of her. Because I was angry. Been angry for years, even before I found out…” He drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. Getting ahead of himself, but that was maybe excusable. He’d never told this story before.

“She had a surgery finally. Another dose of pills afterward, and then as far as insurance was concerned we were all set. I never saw her terrified before the way she was when she ran out of pills. We managed to beg maybe six more months of prescriptions out of her doctor, but even then she was using them more often than she was supposed to, sometimes taking more than he prescribed on top of it. And once she was out...”

There was a disconnect there that he never had been able to reconcile. She was hurting, he knew she was. She was scared, they were out of help. But somehow - blame the addicts he saw on the job, blame his own inexperience and outside perspective, whatever - all that sympathy vanished later.

“This asshole who was finishing his Masters her last year, this dashiki-wearing white guy whose name I am so glad I can’t remember because I’d damn sure be in jail by now... “ He offered a wan smile over at Cisco. “You know the type. All this matted up nasty hair he called ‘locs.”

Cisco nodded, amusement appearing and then leaving again in the space of a few seconds. “Bob Marley posters.”

Joe humphed out a breath. “That’s him. He’s the one who gave her a line on someone who could help with an alternative. I didn’t know until later, much later, so I don’t know how long...I don’t know when her hookup switched her from Oxy to heroin. It feels like I blinked and she was gone. One second she was in pain but my Francine, and then a minute later she was empty-eyed and stick-thin and just...not there anymore.

“But that’s not how it works, really. Me thinking it was quick means I missed so many god damn hints.” He shut his eyes, blew out a breath. “I got mad. It started to show up all the time. She put our baby in danger, she stopped going to classes, she stopped caring. And it wasn’t her fault, but I put every bit of the blame on her. Sent her to rehab, sent her again. And finally, when I took one more call to my own house on the job, when I heard my baby girl’s voice on the 911 recording saying that dinner was burning but mommy wouldn’t wake up...I had a fit. Francine woke up in the hospital and there I was, in a rage, threatening all kinds of...I said one more chance. One last rehab. And if she left early, we wouldn’t be there waiting for her. If she didn’t make it stick, I was done, and I was damn sure taking Iris with me.”

He blinked, and a streak of damp heat went down his cheek. “‘Come home clean or don’t come home.’” He sighed, shaking his head. “She listened. She never came home.”

Cisco moved suddenly, sliding his feet off Joe’s lap and pushing off the couch, going to the little kitchenette. He returned a minute later with a bright neon orange plastic cup with a generous helping of red wine in it. He held it out silently as he sat, sitting warm against Joe’s side.

He took the drink silently, had a sip. Wasn’t strong enough to really help, but he appreciated the gesture.

Cisco didn’t say anything, and after a moment, and another deeper sip, Joe went on.

“I looked for her. But not hard. I was so mad. Thought she was choosing drugs over us, and that was her way of telling me. I was stupid. I was so stupid. I lied to Iris when she asked where mom was. Eventually couldn’t even handle the question anymore, and just told her she was dead. Far as I was concerned...she was.”

He blinked hot eyes, tilting his head back against the back of the couch. “When I think about...she was pregnant with Wally when she left. Got clean, finally, on her own, had Wally on her own. Raised him on her own. Never came back, never called, never…not until last year.”

He lifted the cup, but sighed and lowered it again. “I think it was my fault. I think I must’ve been so bad that she was scared to ever come home, and what does that say about me? Got everybody telling me what a good man I am now, but I’ve got a son who didn’t have a dad growing up, and a daughter who didn’t have a mom, and that’s _my_ fault.”

“Joe.”

“She never came back, Cisco. She cleaned up, but even then. No degree, all that debt, newborn son. Can you even imagine how hard that must have been? And all she had to do was come home. Why didn’t she know that?” He shook his head, glancing over. “Seems like if I was as good a man as people say I am, she would’ve known that.”

Cisco pressed into Joe’s side. His arms came around Joe, looping at his other side, squeezing gently.

Joe slid an arm around him reflexively. He didn’t bother to swipe at his eyes, just let it come. Francine always said he wore his pain too damn close to the surface, but it wasn’t a criticism. She liked it about him.

He was a damn good liar after all these years of practice, but he’d never learned to stifle his emotions.

The silence settled in around them as he waited for Cisco to speak up. To tell him that it wasn’t his fault, or at least not entirely. That Francine probably had her reasons. That she had probably wanted to get clean before she came back, _really_ clean, no more false starts. And then she had Wally to worry about, and next thing she knew he was growing, in school, and maybe it just felt like too late to come back and spring him on Joe.

Joe’d thought those things more than once, soothed himself that maybe when she got her focus back from the drugs she’d just been too absorbed in sustaining her new life to remember to come back, until it felt like it was too late. Anybody would guess that, maybe. Anybody who wanted to make Joe feel better.

Cisco didn’t say anything, though. He gripped Joe, breathing against his shirt, fingers idly shifting up and down his side. He was warm and grounding curled into Joe the way he was, and after a few minutes Joe felt himself settling down. Working through the self-loathing, at least for now.

Christ, that was draining. No wonder he never told that story.

He remembered the cup of wine after another moment, and had a deep bracing swallow. He stroked Cisco’s back a little more consciously. “You’re a little better at listening to problems you can’t solve than I am.”

Cisco snorted faintly, but didn’t move. “If I could blueprint out a circuit map that’d make your life closer to how you wanted it, I’d be working on it right now, believe me.”

Joe smiled, warmed by the wine and the words.

Someday he’d tell Iris and Wally the whole damn thing, start to finish, just like this. Someday, when he wasn’t terrified of them giving him the blame he knew he deserved.

Wally knew Francine clean and hard-working and struggling. He knew a side of her that Joe never got to experience, except a little bit at the very end. Joe didn't need to taint that yet. And Iris needed some time to hear the good things, from Joe and Wally both, before Joe went stomping them down with the bad. She deserved to idealize her mom a little. Francine deserved it.

She’d been strong in the end. Stronger than most. Joe couldn’t help mourning for that part of her, the person she grew into when she was on her own. He never had mourned her properly, really. Not twenty years ago, and not after her death last year. It had taken years for things to crumble, years of not realizing what was happening until it was too late. Years to work out that she was never coming back once she left. There was never time to mourn.

And, okay, maybe it wasn’t completely his fault. He did _try_ , through those bad years. He tried rehab for her, counseling, sent her on a trip to her folks when they couldn’t afford it.

Maybe there was no one to blame, in the end. She hadn’t been an addict because she wanted a quick high, and he hadn’t issued ultimatums for kicks. She was hurting, he was scared, and it just went south. Some problems didn’t have solutions.

Maybe he understood the generalities of Cisco’s own family problems a little better than he realized. Maybe strained politeness and awkward family dinners would have been his life if Francine hadn’t left, or had come back before the end.

He sighed and tightened his grip around Cisco, stirring enough to look down at the top of his head.

“You know, you’re a good listener,” he said, dropping down enough to press a kiss into soft dark hair. “I never would have guessed that about you.”

“Rude.” Cisco stirred and drew back enough to look up at him. He smiled, small and sincere. “And you are a good man,” he answered. “Whether you believe it or not.” He leaned up and returned the kiss, brief and light, against Joe’s jawline.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: I remember the plot! Action! Danger! West Family Gathering!


End file.
